


Guppy

by Poochee



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bicurious Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove Being an Asshole, Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove Redemption, Billy fights the monsters, Bisexual Billy Hargrove, Canon Compliant, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Child Abuse, Developing Relationship, Dreams, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Jealousy, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Partying, Past Child Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Smoking, Supernatural Elements, Teenagers, mild manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24385249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poochee/pseuds/Poochee
Summary: On October 31st, 1984, Billy Hargrove replaced a heartbroken Steve Harrington as Keg King.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 37
Kudos: 257





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So, I took a lot of liberty in writing this and it's quite self-indulgent, so please forgive me if it's not completely canon compliant. I love supernatural/destiny/fate elements and went in heavy with that in the prologue and only mentioned it later on as the plot developed. I love the asshole that is Billy Hargrove and firmly believe that he deserved better (both in his character potential and fate), so this is me trying to fix it for myself - and maybe it'll make you feel a little better, too.
> 
> Until S4, let's continue being clowns together and hope he's doing okay in the Upside Down. ♥

His mom started putting the sleeping pills in his bedtime tea around the time he was eight or nine. It was sort of like a nightly routine; he’d get ready for bed by brushing his teeth, changing into his pyjamas, and getting cozy under the covers. Then, she’d bring in the warm cup of chamomile tea with some milk and a drizzle of honey. She’d read to him, sometimes, the soft timbre of her voice combined with the sensation of her fingernails gently scratching at his scalp made his eyelids so heavy. He’d fight sleep, wanting to continue to be in this warm, soft space - but sleep would always win in the end.

He never knew why she did it. Not until he got a little older, when the life was being sucked out of her by his father. He had strangely vivid dreams of watching her crush up the pills and dust a pinch of it into the tea from between her fingertips, stirring it carefully with a little spoon and adding a little more honey to mask the taste.

Billy would always fall asleep just as he heard his father’s voice rising, as if Niel knew when it was safe to go off the rails. Billy knew they fought, understood the tense breakfasts and dinners, the clench of his dad’s fist when she bit back with her words.

One night, he woke up - but didn’t - and laid there quietly to listen. Nothing. He climbed out of bed, slow and careful. All was quiet, his mom and dad probably long since gone to bed. It was dark in his room and while he knew the shapes, something was strange. Something was off. He turned around and looked to see himself sleeping quietly in bed, nestled amongst the sheets and pillows. It was scary at first. His eyes wide as he snuck closer, feeling this strange pull to lay back down - to _return_ \- and he did, fearing the unknown. 

It happened again the next night, then the next, until it happened every night and he’d start to play quietly on the floor with his toys, knowing he could return to bed whenever he wished to. One night, he played until he peeked through the curtains on his bedroom window and watched the sun rise. It was like being awake, but knowing he was asleep. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced in his short life.

None of his friends believed him - they told him he was lying and that it didn’t make any sense. No one could “leave their body at night”. He was just dreaming.

And maybe they were right. Or maybe they were wrong. He didn’t know how to prove it, until he got brave enough to leave his bedroom. 

It was a strange experience, creeping around his house in the dark and seeing things as he would if he were awake. When he became even braver, he walked through his front door and dug his toes into the grass on the front lawn. He walked down to the playground near his house and watched the sunrise from the top of the monkey bars, smiling secretly to himself. It felt a bit like...freedom.

It continued like that for a while. Billy would drink his tea and go to bed, he would play at the park or _fly_ to visit his friend’s house. Discovering he could fly had been unlike anything he’d ever experienced. The wind in his hair, jumping from roof to roof, going wherever his heart desired. He’d land inside his friend Aiden’s bedroom and see him sleeping. He’d try to wake him, but it never worked.

In the morning, he’d wake up to his mother with another mark. Another furrowed brow. Red wrists. Tears lined her eyes constantly, except when she took them to the beach - there, they were happy. Billy would dunk himself into the salty water as he surfed, grinning widely as he ran back onto the shore and hugged her tight around the waist. She never complained when he got her dress wet and sandy, just held his head to her stomach and watched the waves with a distant look.

But, when it got to be too much, a bit after his tenth birthday, she said goodbye into his ear over the phone and he cried harder than he ever had in his life, listening to that empty dial tone. The emotions were hard to process. He was sad, mostly. And there were other feelings he couldn’t name, too young to recognize.

Sleep never came easy after that. He was scared to fall asleep completely, because his dad took the lock off of his door and he didn’t want to be asleep if he decided Billy was being bad in the middle of the night. He was tired every morning from the lack of sleep and he missed his dreams and the freedom they gave him. He felt _stuck_. 

And within him, something planted itself, waiting to be fed.

His dad was harder on him. Called him names, smacked the back of his head when he did something stupid or bad. He gripped Billy’s wrist so tight once that he felt his bones grind, and he couldn’t hold his pencil right at school the next day. His dad always told him that it was his fault that she was gone. If Billy hadn’t been born, everything would be much better. 

He cried every night and wished for his mom and her tea. He cried until he had nothing left and his sadness twisted itself into something else, something ugly.

After his twelfth birthday, Billy became so unbearably _angry_. It bubbled under his skin at school, clutched at his heart as he stared at the corner of the room when his dad would force him there for hours, and the only time he could let it out was when he was pinning some kid down on the playground. And people paid attention then. No one cared when he was sad, withdrawn during class and recess. His friends had left him because he was ‘bumming them out’ all the time. But, when he was angry, people noticed. Sometimes, the other kids cheered him on. Or laughed, when he pulled on pigtails and flipped up the bottom of skirts. When he was mean, his friends came back. He was Billy, but better.

But Niel found out, eventually. Teachers called him in, and Billy would be locked in his room when he got home without food until breakfast. He was told how stupid he was, how much of a burden he was, how he couldn’t even do something as simple as sit quietly in class. 

The tea made a reappearance then, when Niel wanted to go out and didn’t want to pay for a babysitter. But, it was different - Niel’s tea was bitter. It was different, not as strong, but it let him fall into a deep sleep again instead of dozing all night. Thinking of it now, it was probably different pills.

And then the dreams returned. And he went far, far away every night. 

His favourite spot was the beach, where his mom used to take them. He tried calling out to her there, cupping his hands around his mouth and crying out into the night. He gave up after a week. She wouldn’t come, she was gone.

He wouldn’t surf during those nights - he was scared of drowning and not being able to get back to his body - but he walked along the shore and played in the sand, making small castles and listening to the rush of waves behind him. It became his safe space, somewhere he could go and enjoy by himself. He was alone for hours, watching the stars and making wishes on the ones that shot across the sky. Other times, he wandered around and collected shells - either keeping them to decorate his castles or to crush them with rocks, just to hear the cracks and crunch.

And one night, while he was building another castle, a boy appeared.

Billy had never run into anyone else during his dreams - had seen weird creatures that he couldn’t make sense of - but never people. He thought he was alone in his dreams - but there was a boy, walking along the shore towards him. He was about Billy’s height and age, with short brown hair and big brown eyes. He was dressed in pyjamas, while Billy was dressed in his usual shorts and tank top.

When the boy finally spotted him, he stopped and stared, blinking his big eyes.

Feeling angry that someone was invaded his safe space, Billy grit his teeth and grabbed a handful of sand, glaring at the other boy as he yelled, “Fuck off!”

The boy blinked in surprise again, took a tentative step backwards at the hostility, until he saw Billy’s sandcastle. He spoke then, his voice softer than Billy’s rage-filled voice, “Are you real?”

“What the hell do you mean? Of course I’m real!” Billy threw the handful of sand at the other boy, but it fell short. “Are _you_ real?” He challenged.

“Yeah,” the boy said, taking another step closer, “My name’s Steve. What’s yours?”

Steve seemed real enough. He was the first person Billy had seen in his dreams that was actually awake and able to _see_ him. Whenever his dad was awake and watching TV in the living room, he never noticed Billy sneaking by to leave. Never responded to him when Billy spoke, like he was a ghost. 

His anger simmered down enough to allow his curiosity to rise, and he stared wearily at Steve before reluctantly muttering, “Billy.”

“Billy?” Steve echoed, and then he was plopping down across from Billy, the sandcastle between them, “What are you doing, anyway? This sandcastle sucks.”

His anger flared again, “It’d be better if I had my beach stuff,” Billy explained with a frown, and then smashed into the pile of sand with his fists, punching it into the ground.

Steve watched him with wide eyes, alarmed. “Geez, you didn’t have to do that. I was going to help you make it better.” 

“I don’t want your help,” Billy spat, “What are you doing here, anyway? This is _my_ spot. You can go literally anywhere else.”

Steve looked around and shrugged. There was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke up again, “I...I can fly around when I sleep,” he admitted, said it like Billy wouldn’t believe him, “And at school we were told to write about places we’d wanna go this summer. I want to go to California, but my dad works a lot so I don’t think we can go, so I...flew here…” He peeked at Billy then, brows a little furrowed as he waited for the other boy to laugh at him or something. 

But Billy was a little shocked. “Wait, you’re not _from_ here?” He asked, his nose wrinkling in confusion.

Steve shook his head, “Nope. I’m from Hawkins, Indiana. It’s really far from here.”

“You flew from _Indiana?_ ” Billy couldn’t believe it. That was almost across the country, “Did it take a long time?”

“No,” Steve shook his head again, focusing on the destroyed sandcastle and digging his fingers into the damp sand, “It was fast. I flew over cars and towns...it was kinda cool.”

Billy flicked his gaze down to watch the other boy begin to rebuild, thinking quietly to himself for a moment. “So...you can fly in your dreams, too?” He asked softly.

“Yeah. My friends don’t believe me, but I’ve been doing it for a long time. Like, maybe...a few years? But not every night. Only sometimes, when I really want to. And I have to be super relaxed.”

“My friends don’t believe me, either,” Billy said with another frown, “I never met someone else who could do it too. And I’ve never left my town. Aren’t you scared or something?”

Steve shrugged, “I mean, it’s not real, right?” He glanced up at Billy, “So there’s nothing to be scared of.”

Billy didn’t really know what to say to that. He wasn’t going to admit to some random boy that he was scared of drowning in his sleep. So, he shrugged and began to build again.

They did that for a while, quietly working together, until Steve spoke up again, “So...you live here?”

“Yeah, I live on this beach.”

Steve’s eyes flew open wide, “Really?!”

His reaction actually made Billy laugh, “No, stupid. I live in a house with my...dad.” The mention of his dad made his smile fade a little.

And Steve noticed, “Your dad’s an asshole, too, huh?”

Billy bristled at that, setting his jaw, ready to bite back with a mean comment - but hesitated. This boy didn’t know him and lived across the country. What was the harm in actually saying something? Maybe Steve was just a figment of his imagination. “You could say that,” he huffed, like it was some kind of funny understatement, “He calls me names and pushes me around.”

Steve looked bothered by that, but Billy was...glad. If he saw pity in the other boy’s face, it would have surely pissed him off more than anything. 

Steve spoke up again, quieter this time as he pushed his thumb into his tower to make a window, “That...my dad doesn’t do that, but he’s never home. And my mom usually goes with him, so I’m at home with my nanny a lot. It’s like they go away more every year, and I miss them a lot, but they get me cool presents on my birthday and Christmas, so...I guess that makes up for it.” 

It was so...different. Billy didn’t really know what to make of it. He couldn’t really imagine it, either. His friend’s parents were pretty normal, or divorced, but never...not there. Maybe a dad or two, but never both. It was hard to comprehend. “Wait,” Billy began, sitting back to stare at the other boy, “So, you wake up and sometimes your parents aren’t there?"

Steve nodded, “Yeah, but they always tell me when they’re leaving and coming back. They put it on a calendar in my room, too. Well, they forgot to last time - but they usually do.”

“How long do they leave for?” Billy tilted his head of blond curls to the side, squinting his eyes a little at the other.

The brunette looked up and pursed his lips, looking up in the air as he thought, “Depends...usually a few days...sometimes a week…”

“Like, often?” 

“Once a month, maybe.”

“And this is a _problem_?” Billy laughed softly, disbelieving.

Steve frowned at him, almost pouting, “My parents are supposed to spend time with me on weekends and make me breakfast, or drive me to birthday parties, not my _nanny_. It’s embarrassing.”

“My dad barely does shit for me,” Billy shrugged, “Sometimes I think he wishes I wasn’t there. Maybe it’d make his life easier.” He flicked his eyes down to the castle between them again, and it was better than his first one, admittedly. “Think we’re done?”

Steve wiped the shocked look off his face and focused on the sandcastle, evaluating it for a moment before nodding, “Yeah. Looks good. I haven’t built one in a long time, y’know.”

Billy hummed, thoughtful, and then kicked it in with his foot.

“ _Billy!_ ” Steve screeched in horror, scrambling from his spot and crawling over to grab Billy’s leg that was still kicking, “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

But all he could do was laugh, delighted in how Steve screamed, “You should have seen your face!” He giggled, letting his leg go still as Steve squeezed it. “You have a funny looking face.”

As if on cue, Steve frowned again, “You’re a real jerk, you know that?” And continued as he lifted himself to sit back on his heels, “What are you, your school’s number one bully? Billy the Bully?”

“The teachers seem to think so,” Billy rolled his eyes, “But they’re all stupid. And so are you, if you call me that again.” 

Steve smiled, a bit mischievous, “What about Bully the Billy?”

Billy smiled back, a bit smug, “You’re stupider than I thought.”

It was like a weird, instant friendship after that. They brushed the sand off of their clothes and skin and walked down the beach, chatting about whatever came to mind - mostly things they had in common, such as their love of sports and how they hated homework. Billy learned that Steve was an only child, but had always wanted a sibling or two, to combat the loneliness. Billy shared that he was okay being an only child, because of his dad. He was sure his dad would hate all of his kids, had he had any more. Steve voiced his concerns, asked far too many personal questions, but it was like...a relief. Billy couldn’t tell any of this shit to _anyone_. It was his burden to bear, and that was something he knew even at such a young age. And, if his dad found out that he’d been talking to people about what he did to Billy…

He was too scared to even think about it.

So, he spoke freely about what his dad did to him with Steve, the possibly imaginary boy. The names he called him. The threats, the punishments, the bedtime tea. Steve was speechless, and for a second looked like he was going to hug Billy, but didn’t. Billy didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed about that.

“Why don’t you tell someone?” Steve asked, bending down to grab a small shell.

“Because I dunno what would happen,” he shrugged, watching Steve clean the sand off of the clamshell, “And...I guess I deserve it. If he does it. I’m a bad kid.”

Steve looked up at him, his face twisted, “What…?”

“It’s what he tells me, and he’s my dad. Teachers at my school say it, too. So it’s true, right?”

Steve stood to his full height, looking into Billy’s blue eyes with confusion before shaking his head slightly, “I don’t think you’re a bad kid.”

Billy scowled, “You just met me. And we don’t even know if this is real.”

“So?” Steve mirrored his expression, “Yeah, you’re a jerk, but you’re also funny, you’re on the baseball team, you surf, and you have a lot of friends. You’re kinda like me, but with a really mean dad. So, you’re not bad...just…” Steve paused and twisted his mouth a little before saying, “Different.”

And...Billy didn’t know how to take that. For the past year and whatever, he’d been told by numerous people that he was a bad kid. A bully. A disappointment. And here’s this kid from Indiana that tells him he’s not bad, he’s _different_. 

A bit speechless, Billy just punches Steve in the arm and calls him stupid. Steve rubs his arm and shrugs, like he’s used to it.

“Y’know, you should be a little more like me,” Billy offered, “Being mean can be fun. My friends like it, maybe yours will, too.”

Steve shoots him a look like ‘yeah, sure’ but also as if he were actually considering it.

They continue on, and after a while Billy notices the horizon starts to lighten with the sun - the deep purple clouds breaking apart with orange and yellow. Steve’s in the middle of ranting about some girl in his class when Billy realizes that he’ll have to go home soon - _they’ll_ have to go home soon. 

It’s weirdly upsetting.

He stops in his tracks and stares out at the ocean, feeling the salty breeze brush his face and toss his hair, and thinks about his mother. 

“Hey,” Steve half-jogs back to him, having noticed Billy fell behind, “You okay?”

He gives a strange nod-shrug to Steve, and breaks his gaze to look at the other boy again, “Just thinking.”

Steve lifted a brow, “About?”

Billy hesitates again, opening his mouth and closing it, swallowing thickly as he pushes the truth back down his throat. There wasn’t any time for that, not anymore. “We should go back.” He watches Steve’s face then, takes in how it drops with an understanding frown, the accompanying nod. Steve didn’t want to go, either.

“Yeah, I guess so,” the other boy sighs, running his hand through his hair as he looks around. It was a dream - Steve could just disappear and that would be it, right?

They stand there for a second, a little awkward, just staring.

“If…” Steve starts, just barely heard over the waves, “If this isn’t a dream, and this is real...do you think we’d meet one day? Or again?”

Billy shrugs, “I don’t know. We can try. This is the only place I go to, so...you know where to find me.”

Steve smiles then, and nods, understanding. “Okay…well, see ya around, Billy.” 

Billy watches him turn and walk down the beach, listening to the sound of the waves beginning to slowly fade, until there’s nothing but silence. He blinked hard, Steve was gone, and then his dad was yelling at him to wake up for school.

He dismissed it as a one-time happenstance as he brushed his teeth. He told no one at school when he arrived. He kept Steve tucked away safe, in the back of his mind, to visit when he pleased. And he thought that perhaps if Steve were real, they’d be friends.


	2. Chapter 2

Not long after his sixteenth birthday, Billy met Maxine.

Or, Max, as she preferred. But it didn’t really matter. She was a weird little redhead, with too many freckles and a funny little face. His dad introduced her to him after he was already well acquainted with Susan, a few months into their relationship once things were becoming very serious, very fast. Susan had been hanging around a lot and Billy didn’t know how to really feel about it. She was nice enough to him; polite and kind, and she kept Neil busy - so busy that Billy felt some breathing room for once in his life. 

It came in the form of being able to hang out with friends almost anytime he wanted after school, and spending some time at home alone without having to feel like he was walking on eggshells. Then, he was able to buy a beat-up Camaro from his best friend Angel’s dad with the money he’d saved up from working at his part-time job, at that same man’s mechanic shop. Angel’s dad, Marc, felt more like a dad to him than Neil ever had. Marc taught him how to fix a car and how to ride a bike, which was probably the most significant thing in Billy’s life up to that point. What kind of father didn’t even bother to teach his only child how to ride a fucking  _ bike? _ He had a feeling that Marc knew about his dad, knew that Neil was a dick to him and maybe he pitied Billy. But, that pity gave him a chance to own a really cool fucking car, so he took it. He worked on it every chance he had and got parts in exchange for changing oil on cars and doing whatever heavy lifting was needed. He felt a new sort of freedom after the first time his Camaro roared to life, it made him grin so big his cheeks hurt. 

But it didn’t last long, because a few weeks later they moved into Susan’s place and that ruined his small piece of heaven. Susan’s place was bigger than the one he and his dad lived in and would fit the four of them comfortably, but leaving his childhood home was harder than he’d anticipated. He packed up his room into three boxes, shoved them into his Camaro, and drove across town to his new home. It was further from the beach, in a neighborhood he didn’t know, with people he didn’t know. Max was thrust into the ‘little sister’ role by her new step-father, and Billy knew better than to outright fight it. He knew how to be subtle, had developed a few skills growing up as he did, and he regularly exercised them on his new step-sister.

From what he knew, Max was stubborn, snarky, and a total shitbird. Billy knew that he never wanted a little sister because he knew he’d end up with one exactly like her. She was a tomboy in every sense of the word, who hung out at the skatepark and begged her mom for a new board constantly. She hated nail polish and makeup, glared at Billy when he’d meanly tell her that she needed it to cover up that thing she called a face. Making her mad on purpose had been fun for a while, watching how her face turned as red as her hair, which had earned her a new nickname: Mad Max. Billy had been pretty proud of that one, but then she told her mom and Neil had a thorough ‘talk’ with him that sorted it all out. Now, she was just a pain in the ass that he was responsible for.

But, maybe it was the fact that she was young and so ‘tough’, so weird, so...not  _ him _ , that he felt the urge to take the blame if she tracked in mud on Susan’s freshly shampooed carpet. Because while Max was used to having her mother’s fury to worry about, now she had Neil’s.

And Billy knew what that was like. Still did, even with their new little ‘family’ dynamic.

A few weeks after he and Neil had moved in, they were all having dinner and Billy had asked his dad if he could go over to a friend’s for the weekend. 

Neil had said, ‘ask your mother’. 

So. Billy said she’d left six years ago, how could he? 

He made a comment about Susan not being his mom and she never would be, and Neil had gripped his steak knife so tight that his knuckles went white and Billy never said anything to Susan again. Not for a long time.

The house was tense after that for the next few weeks, and Billy waited for his dad to explode despite being on his best behaviour. The explosion was unlike anything he could have expected: Neil and Susan were getting married. The news had shocked Billy, because Susan was recently divorced, but he figured it was his dad’s doing. He wore an uncomfortable suit to their small wedding, his jaw clenched throughout the day and evening. His dad wouldn't even allow him close to the open bar and that really fucking sucked, because he firmly believed he wouldn’t be able to get through the reception and dance sober. But, at least Max was equally as miserable and Billy found it funny how she pouted in her flower girl dress. At least they had that specific sort of misery in common.

He went to sleep that night with a horrible headache and laid very, very still.

While he dozed, he had a wet dream - which was strange and a bit disturbing considering the day he had. But, it was different from the ones he’d had before: those dreams where it was like he was watching it happen, but not this one. This one felt so...real. 

The first thing he noticed was the weight straddling him, hands on either side of his head. Slow, careful movements of someone ducking their head to put lips on his neck, his jaw, sliding across his cheek. A plush mouth, pressed against his own, kissing him syrup sweet. Hands on his arms and chest, touching almost timidly. 

He’d kissed plenty of girls already, knew their little kitten sounds, their sweet scent, how nice it was to feel their soft bodies against his own. He also knew the way guys felt against him, how aggressive they could be, how pliant. The only difference was muscles and secrecy. Girls, he could kiss and touch freely anytime and anywhere, but guys were only for Saturday nights at certain parties with his friend Angel. They were all the same but--

_ Different _ , a vaguely familiar voice supplied in his mind.

The memories of Steve rushed back then, and when Billy opened his eyes, he saw a dark pair staring right back. 

‘Just a dream,’ the boy whispered against his mouth without saying a word, giving his chin a playful nip before he kissed down Billy’s neck again. 

“A dream,” Billy breathed shakily, confused but excited and unable to move. He looked his fill of the other boy, who looked older now, who adjusted himself to sit up and back on Billy’s hips. Billy felt like he’d been struck dumb, unable to do anything but lay there and look. Steve’s face flickered a little, shifted a bit to look like the cute boy he’d seen at the beach last week, before he leaned down again to connect their lips and roll his hips down into Billy’s.

It hit him like a punch to the gut, choked a sound out of him as he bucked his hips up, felt the muscle of Steve’s thighs and the weight of his balls against his own through the thin fabric of their underwear. It was so hot, it made his skin crawl and his mouth dry up like a desert.

“Fuck,” Billy breathed, grabbed at Steve’s hips to keep him there, caught the smirk on the other boy’s face. “Cocky shit,” he murmured, grinding up into Steve again as another wave of heat washed over him.

The other boy whispered something inaudible in the quiet room, which was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing. Steve didn’t say anything after that, just sucked at Billy’s neck and kissed him stupid, rubbed their dicks together until it began to chaf on the right said of painful pleasure. It was rough, almost desperate, and Billy came so hard, his mouth open with stuttered breath and -- woke abruptly to soaked underwear and the sun filtering through his thin curtains. He scrambled to sit up, wiped the sweat from his brow and looked around his room, searching as he tried to catch his breath. Nothing.

Just a dream, like Steve had said.

<>

All Billy could think about during his drive across the country was the last time he stood on the beach. His favourite spot, where he’d run into the waves with his board and friends, where he would lay beside his mother on the sand while she read a book, where he had his first kiss with Daisy and then Aiden, where he’d escape to in his dreams, and where he built a sandcastle in a dream with a boy who wasn’t real. It felt a lot like loss, and while he’d grieved alone the night before, in the day he felt a multitude of things. 

Most of all, resentment. Towards everyone and everything, but mostly towards the redhead in his passenger seat. They’d never had the most loving relationship in the so many months they’d been forced to play nice, but this was the worst of it. They hadn’t talked yet, and they’d left the state of California nearly six hours ago, driving towards their new home in Indiana. Bumfuck, Indiana, as he’d begun to call it.

And the thing was, he didn’t  _ want  _ to talk about it, because it burned him up from the inside every time he thought about it. He was fine with resenting the little shit stain until the day one of them died. Or, until he moved out after graduation and never spoke to any of them again. On his lowest days, he thought of that, and it brought him comfort. Knowing that while he was ripped away from his home, his friends, his  _ everything _ , he could go back. Eventually. He just had to suffer a little longer. And what was new there?

The house was smaller than the one in Cali, a lot shittier, but at least Billy got his own room and it seemed relatively easy to sneak out of if he ever needed to. He pretended not to notice the hook and latch Neil installed on the doorframe the next day. 

Again, nothing new there.

Their street was uneventful and long, surrounded by trees and grass and pavement and other lots. Billy took a drive around the town with Max just to check it out, and came back just as disappointed as he’d expected to be.   


<>

The only excitement in going to a new school came in the form of new chicks and a bunch of dumb smalltown boys he could boss around. They were all in awe of his newness, staring as he walked down the hall, whispering and eyeing him up like they’d actually be worth his time. He’d made a hell of an entrance already, his Camaro roaring into the parking lot to disturb the peace, and by first period the news of a new boy from California had spread throughout the school. 

It was nice to have the attention, truthfully. It made Billy smirk and wink at the girls, and one of the boys in his algebra class had introduced himself with more confidence than Billy had ever expected someone in Hawkins to have. His name was Tommy Hagan, a boy with short dark hair, a shit ton of freckles, and a smirk that rivalled Billy’s. He introduced Billy to his other friends in the class; they knew all the cool chicks and who was an easy lay, who threw the best parties, who he could bully into doing his homework. They seemed like the right kind of crowd and eager for someone to call the shots, which Billy was happy to do. He tested it by picking the lunch table later that day, smiling to himself as people fought to get a seat, pushing each other and cramming onto the plastic chairs. 

“Jesus. It’s like you guys never get anything new in this town.” He chuckled meanly, shaking his head as he poked at his lunch a little.

“No one from  _ Cali _ ,” Tommy’s girl piped up - Carol, he recalled.

“Yeah, c’mon Billy, tell us all about it!” Another girl said, and Billy sighed with a small shrug.

“Beaches, sunshine,” he replied casually, grinning as they cried for more. So, he went on. Told them about surfing, what the people were like. Kept it light and not at all personal. By the time lunch was over, he had four dates lined up.

After the last period, Tommy followed him back to his locker, like some kind of eager puppy. Jesus. “You always follow around guys like this?” He asked, keeping the bite to a minimum as he swung his locker open. He needed to play somewhat nice with Tommy. Maybe they could become friends.

Tommy huffed and leaned against the lockers, crossing his arms as he looked around before replying in a cool almost mocking tone, “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t fall into the wrong crowd, Billy. There’s a ton of fucking losers that would love to get their hands on you, and you’re too cool for that shit, y’know?”

Billy shoved his notebook into his locker roughly, slamming the door shut before looking over at the other. “Yeah? Which losers, exactly?” He quirked a brow, voice laced with sarcasm, “I’d hate to fraternize with the enemy.” 

Tommy followed him outside, speaking the entire time like he’d been dying to share this with someone, “Like I said, there’s a ton of them. But, the one you gotta watch out for the most is Steve Harrington.” Tommy’s voice was laced with something then, maybe bitterness. Billy couldn’t exactly place it. “We used to be close friends until he was whipped by this chick named Nancy Wheeler, she’s a prissy bitch, too - really sunk her claws into him, I doubt he’ll ever come around,” Tommy shook his head as if it were some sort of big unfortunate loss, “‘King Steve’, we used to call him. He got all the chicks because his parents are fucking loaded - he’s got this huge house and a BMW, and ‘cause of that he was the cockiest shit around town. Now, he’s just some pathetic loser who follows Wheeler around. Doesn’t even bother talking to us anymore - me and Carol, that is.”

Christ, Tommy had something against this Steve guy. 

“Sounds like a big loss to your friend group,” Billy muttered around his unlit cigarette, lighting it quickly before turning and leaning against his Camaro. He squinted at Tommy as he exhaled a lungful of smoke, “Sounds like King Steve used to be the shit. Probably had a few good parties at that big house of his, huh?”

“Fuck yeah, man. He’s got a pool and his parents were never around - probably even less now. We had girls over all the time. You guys probably would’ve got along, actually.”

Weird thing to say, Billy mused as he took another drag. Where was Max? 

“Anyway,” Tommy chirped, “I’m gonna head home. And, listen, this chick Tina’s throwing a Halloween party tonight - you should come. I can give you her address and shit tomorrow, if you do.”

Billy mulled it over for a second, wondering if a party in this shithole of a town would even be worth it. “Is there gonna be beer?” He asked, finally, taking a long drag of his cig.

Tommy smiled, “More than just beer, man. But, yeah - a keg. You could even take a crack at beating Steve for the title of Keg King, he holds the record.”

Getting drunk and maybe getting some action definitely beat hanging around his room and Max tonight. “Alright.” 

Tommy left with a grin and a ‘see ya’, just as Billy got comfortable in his car and rolled the windows down - and saw Max heading his way with her usual frown that she’d adopted ever since they drove away from her house. 

The arcade had become their middleground, agreed upon after she’d discovered it yesterday. After school, he’d drive and drop her off there so he could spend a few hours doing whatever the hell he wanted - dropping her off anywhere usually ended with yelling, as it did today. This arrangement meant they spent little to no time together without their parents getting on their ass about them not getting along - not that they knew of this agreement. They were going to be far too busy pretending to be the perfect family and getting to know the neighbours.

It just worked better this way. They were already so miserable.

<>  


He hadn’t expected much when the sun went down, aside from getting shitfaced in his last minute Terminator costume and winning the title of Keg King, which he was dead set on as Tommy and his friend Alex hoisted Billy up over the keg. He knew how to keg stand, he was looking pretty fucking good, and there was a crowd gathering as the seconds ticked by and he was still going. Whispers of ‘is he going to do it?’ and ‘oh my god it’s happening’ filled his ears, then the countdown started and Billy felt a rush of adrenaline as they cheered his victory, and he sprayed the leftover beer out of his mouth when he was rightside up again, yelling out in victory.  _ Fuck _ , it felt good to be this again - adored and praised, even if it was in Hawkins. 

Billy took his cigarette from Tommy’s fingers, felt sweat and beer on his chest and abs as he was all but escorted out of the crowd by Tommy and Alex, who were both chanting his name along with the others. “ _ That’s _ how you do it, Hawkins!” He yelled, walking back into the house with the other two on his heels, quickly feeling a wave of heat hit him just as Tommy left his side. It was packed inside, with writhing bodies and the sour smell of beer filling the room. He caught sight of some streamers and made a beeline for it - he needed to wipe his mouth on something - and the alcohol hit him then, as he was fucking reaching for goddamn  _ toilet paper streamers _ , tearing off a piece and wiping his mouth on the longer piece. 

He looked through the crowd, felt this weird sort of pull as he did, and saw Tommy approaching a tall guy with sunglasses on and a pursed-lip girl standing next to him. And it was that weird pull that made Billy move, climbing over furniture and pushing through people, hearing Tommy yell at  _ Steve Harrington _ that Billy was the new Keg King as he arrived.

Steve snatched the sunglasses off of his face and Billy couldn’t do anything as those big brown eyes landed on him, swallowing him whole in a strangely familiar way. Billy’s drunken brain could only supply  _ ‘pretty boy’ _ at the sight of him, which seemed pretty fucking stupid. It felt similar to a wave knocking him off his board, all sound was swallowed in a rush and he felt like it’d just rolled over him, leaving him gasping through parted lips as he broke through the water’s surface. Staring into those eyes, he remembered building a sandcastle.

Tommy nudging his shoulder is what brought him back. He was at a party and he was staring at Steve Harrington, and his chick had left.

Obviously sizing Steve up, he moved closer, watched how Steve’s eyes widened a fraction as if he were expecting a fight. And no, Billy wasn’t going to fight him. Wouldn’t fucking dare even try hurting such a pretty thing like him. Instead, he smirked and said, “How about a rematch? Hm? C’mon, don’t be a sore loser...”

He could sense a bit of a fight in Steve, in the way he didn’t back down, but there was definitely a softness in the way he averted his eyes - submission, maybe? How fucking boring. Billy was lit with the fire that came with praise, of being the top fucking dog - the new Keg King of Hawkins. And Steve wasn’t even trying to challenge him. 

Instead, Steve gave him this pinched princess look before leaving to run off after his girl. 

And Billy laughed. Hard. 

“Aw, fuck him!” Tommy crowed, clapping Billy on the shoulder, “C’mon, Keg King! Let’s go dance with our hostess!”

Billy did dance, a little, mostly let whichever girl was closest enough grind on him. He twirled Tina around, a cigarette pinched between his gloved fingers as he did, and watched Harrington when the other teen found his way onto the dancefloor with his girl. It was sort of like watching a trainwreck, honestly. Wheeler was getting wasted fast (probably because she weighed as much as a goddamn sack of bones) and Harrington was doing a pisspoor job at getting her to slow down. 

And to seal the deal, Harrington spilled a drink on her.

“So damn embarrassing,” Tommy laughed in his ear as the party continued after the two left the room, “Told you Harrington lost his cool a long time ago!”

And Billy couldn’t help but wonder in his drunken haze,  _ why? _ How did a guy like Steve, a guy at the top of the highschool food chain, lose his place because of some girl? Billy dated plenty back in Cali, and no girl or boy ever changed him so severely. It really was kind of pathetic to think someone who’d once been similar to Billy had let himself be softened and reduced to nothing.

And maybe it was a bit of pity he felt, when he saw Harrington leave the party with tears in his eyes, without his girl. 

But it was definitely a sense of hope he felt when he saw Wheeler leaving the party with another guy.

<>

It wasn’t any of his business. Whatever had happened between Harrington and his girl shouldn’t even be on his fucking radar, honestly. But, when Billy got home that night after the party, it was all he could goddamn think about. Harrington and his stupid brown eyes, and his dumb hair, so thick and perfectly styled. No shit he had been the King, looking like that. 

And the fact that Wheeler had left with some other guy struck something inside of Billy. If this was a breakup, which he was sure it was, he thought perhaps it was time to have Steve return to his old ways. Let Billy see this ‘King Steve’ that Tommy and his crew kept going on about. Maybe get on Harrington’s good side, see if he wasn’t just pretty for the girls in Hawkins. There was no way Steve looked like that, had an ass like  _ that _ , and didn’t swing both ways. Billy had to play it cool, though. Small towns like this, it was risky to indulge. Especially after what happened last time.

The question was, how did he get Steve’s attention?

He decided on an aggressive approach, because he’d started off with being an asshole, so why stop now? He’d seen that bit of fight in Harrington that night, perhaps all he needed was a push to let out all that aggression and anger. He’d met some of his friends in Cali after a fistfight, as if it helped them push past their differences and see the other clearly.

It started in basketball practice the following day, with Billy doing his best to distract him - chewing gum obnoxiously, staring him down as Steve dribbled the ball and tried to find a way to get by him. Finally, Steve moved and then his back was to Billy’s chest. 

Fuck, Harrington had a nice ass. 

Okay, focus.

“Harrington, was it?” He breathed, panting slightly as he pushed at Steve’s back with his arm, blocking him from his teammates, “I heard you used to run this school. That true?” He pushed at him, staring at his profile and watching how his hair flopped in his face, “‘King Steve’, they used to call you, huh?” Leering as best he could without being caught by their coach, he all but purred, “Then you turned  _ bitch _ .”

That snapped something in Harrington, who turned to him and barked, “ _ Hey _ \- maybe you should shut up and just play the game.”

Annoyance flared and lips pursed, Billy kicked Steve’s leg out from under him and took the basketball with ease, dribbling it down the court and scoring with a move he’d practiced for too many years. It earned him some cheers, which he took with a grin, turning around to catch Steve doubled over and staring at him. Billy made a face at him: tongue poking out from his mouth with a grin, hoping for a reaction - and then Wheeler appeared.

Fuck. So close.

It didn’t go well, from the look on Harrington’s face when he returned and how he barely even tried for the rest of practice. No matter how much Billy shouldered him or egged him on, nothing worked. So, he let it be. 

The next day, he continued. He was skins again - the coach liked having them on opposing teams and Billy was fine with that, although he would have acted the same even if they were on the same team. The other guys seemed to like the way he treated Steve, with how they smiled every time Billy took a jab at him. Nobody seemed to be on Steve’s side.

Today, he pushed at Steve again, who was trying to block him, and he pushed Steve out of the way to grab the ball. He heard Steve come up behind him, on his ass and more aggressive than yesterday, and it made Billy laugh out loud in glee, “Alright! Alright, alright!” He laughed, dribbling the ball and straightening, “King Steve! King Steve, everyone!” He motioned to the other in front of him, and lowered his voice just so Steve could hear him, “I like it - playing tough today.”

“ _ Jesus! _ ” Steve snapped, sweating profusely and his brow furrowed, “Do you ever stop talking, man?! Come on!”

Billy laughed again, dribbling the ball casually as Steve continued to take his defensive stance, “What? You afraid the coach is gonna bench you now that I’m here? Huh?” And then he charged, pushed Steve right to the ground with a hard shoulder, and lined up another shot. He high-fived his passing teammate as he turned to look at the older boy, who was still on the ground.

What a fucking shame. He really thought Steve had it today. 

Walking over, he leaned down and offered his hand, which Steve stared at wearily for a moment before taking it in his own. Billy pulled him close, staring down at him meanly before giving him some advice in a low voice, “You were moving your feet. Plant them next time, draw a charge.”

And the way Steve looked at him as he spoke, this defiant, unwavering stare, thrilled Billy unlike anything else in this shit town had yet. This was going to be worth it.

He let Steve go then, left him on the ground, and headed towards the showers as their coach blew the whistle.

<>  


This was it. He had Steve fired up, he just needed to push it a little more. 

Perhaps it was a little dangerous to do it here, in the showers, but he had Tommy following him as usual so he knew he had to behave to a certain degree. And, being an asshole on the court was one thing. The showers were neutral ground, where team rivalries were put aside, and Billy adopted that attitude easily. It was  _ very  _ easy to, especially when he caught the quickest glance at what Harrington was packing. 

Fuck. Focus, Billy.

He watched Harrington head into the shower, a towel around his waist as if modesty were a thing that existed in a teenage locker room, and followed shortly after. Almost like it was meant to be, there was a free shower between Harrington and Tommy, and he took it without a second thought. 

The next step, he decided, was to get Steve over his ex. Once Steve was over her, he had no doubts that Steve would be crawling back to his old friends. Maybe he’d throw a rager, and Billy would get them both so drunk he’d kiss Steve so good he’d beg Billy to blow him. And Billy could blame it on the alcohol, if needed.

_ Focus. _

Billy cleared his nose as he stood under the spray, and glanced over at Steve, who was lathering himself up. He broke the usual silence then, a bit abruptly, “Don’t sweat it, Harrington. Today’s just not your day, man.”

“Yeah, not your week.” Tommy piped up with a laugh. Billy stared at his friend for a second before looking back to Steve.

Time to drive it home. “You and the princess break up for one day, and she’s already running off with the freak’s brother.” He got the scoop from Tommy that morning. Apparently the guy Wheeler had run off with after the party was Johnathon Byer, the older brother to Will Byer, the weird kid who had gone missing last year and was presumed dead. They even found a ‘body’, yet he returned. This town was so fucking weird, Billy barely even bothered trying to understand it anymore.

Apparently Johnathon had got Steve pretty good in the face, too, last year. Which wasn’t a surprise, with how little defense Steve had in the face of conflict.

But, the look on Steve’s face now is beautiful, this pissed off rage that he swallows down as Tommy chuckles. They both look over to him.

“Oh, shit,” Tommy grinned, staring straight into Harrington’s eyes, “You don’t know. Johnathon and the princess skipped yesterday. Still haven’t shown,” he leaned against the metal shower, leering at Steve in that cocky way Steve must have taught him when they were friends, “But that must just be a coincidence, right?” And then he burst out laughing like it was the funniest fucking thing in the world.

And just hanging out with Tommy for a day and night was enough to know what a bastard he was, and how dumb he could be, so Billy just stared at him as he grabbed and unfolded his towel before turning back to Steve, “Don’t take it too hard, man,” he leaned his arm against the shower, licking his lips as he continued, “A pretty boy like you has got nothing to worry about…” he leaned in, trying not to smile as he spoke, “Plenty of bitches in the sea.” 

Nothing.

In an impulsive decision, he reached and turned Steve’s water off - just to be an asshole - and finally grinned as those brown eyes glanced over at him with annoyance clearly there, “Am I right?”

No response, just that familiar stare. He’d seen it before, somewhere before the party and the beach, he was sure. 

With a final smack to Steve’s shoulder, Billy left, saying to the air in front of him as he went, “I’ll be sure to leave you some.”

If that didn’t drive Steve mad, Billy didn’t know what would.


	3. Chapter 3

Gravel crunched underfoot as Billy stormed out of the house and to his car, slamming his door shut and breathing hard shallow breaths through his bloody nose as he started up his car. He threw it into drive and peeled out of his spot, tears welling in his eyes as he blew through a stop sign. 

“ _ Fuck! _ ” He shouted over his heavy metal music, hitting the steering wheel, shaking it and yelling out his pain as he sped through the streets.

Neil had found out that Max hadn’t been going to tutoring after school. He knew about their agreement, and pulled Billy out of his room at eight in the morning on a Saturday just to chew him out. And Billy, hungover to shit in the same clothes from last night, had only looked at his dad the wrong way and the next thing he knew, there was a fist in his face. Susan had screamed from where she and Max sat at the breakfast table, the little shithead sitting there quietly with wide, fearful eyes. She probably hadn’t meant to spill it, it had probably just slipped out over breakfast or something, but that didn’t do anything to soothe the burning shame and anger mixing in his gut. Susan’s screaming had distracted Neil long enough for Billy to shove his feet into his shoes, grab his keys, and then he was gone. 

If he was lucky, Neil would only withhold his dinner and lock him in his room tonight.

He drove with no destination; he just needed as much distance from that house as he could get. He even entertained the thought of leaving Hawkins, but that was stupid so he just drove until he needed to pull over.

He ended up in Loch Nora, the ‘nicer’ part of Hawkins from what Max had told her mother after trick or treating there. After checking to see that no one else was around, he finally pulled over to the side of the road and reached over to his glove console to pull out a handful of old napkins and hold it to his face.

Okay. Breathe.

_ Fuck _ , it was beginning to throb.

He put on his brave face and glanced up to the rearview mirror, saw the dried and fresh blood that covered his top lip and curved around his mouth before it dripped down to his chin. His lower lip wobbled for a second, and tears stung his eyes because his dad knew better than to leave such obvious marks by now, and yet--

A car zoomed by and Billy froze as it screeched to a halt, backed up slowly, and he managed to wipe at his eyes before glancing over.

Steve fucking Harrington.

It’s been a few days since he’d last tormented him. Steve had begun to avoid him at school and practice for obvious reasons, and Billy didn’t exactly blame him. He’d realized that he went in too hot; he had no real reason to make Steve man up and get over his ex, because Steve obviously wanted nothing to do with him. All while Billy was practically obsessed with him, seeking him out during lunch and watching him watch Nancy in class. 

Billy couldn’t help it, he was just drawn to him. There was this  _ thing  _ about Steve that drove him wild. He was an enigma, like an unreadable open book, and Billy wanted to know more. He’d try to play it cool when he and Tommy hung out and he tried asking questions, but Tommy wasn’t the most insightful person around so it didn’t really go anywhere. He just knew that he and Steve were childhood friends that drifted after Nancy came into the picture and that some weird shit happened last year. He’d wanted to ask about it, but it seemed like a can of worms he shouldn’t open, so he let it be.

But now, Steve was here and Billy was panicking with a bleeding nose.

The other boy rolled his passenger side window down, and motioned for Billy to do the same, but he  _ really  _ didn’t want to. He didn’t owe Steve shit, he didn’t have to do what he said. 

So he held up his middle finger and showed it to the other teen.

“Come on, man,” Steve groaned, his voice muffled through the glass, his expression exasperated but his brown eyes were wide and almost pleading. He was clearly worried, which made Billy feel...

He faced the road and squared his jaw, hoping that by ignoring Steve, he’d leave.

But, no, it wasn’t going to work out like that - because when has anything in Billy’s life ever worked out in his favor?

Steve’s voice is still muffled as he half-shouts, “Dude, you’re bleeding all over yourself. Are you okay?”

Billy felt another stream of blood tickle his lip then, and he held his bundle of napkins up to it with a swear. It wouldn’t fucking stop bleeding - had his old man actually broke it? 

“Tilt your head back!”

Billy snapped then, rolling his window down with an enraged look that was mostly hidden behind the napkins, “Fuck  _ off _ , Harrington! I’m  _ fine! _ ”

Steve smirked in return, like he found some kind of humor in all of this, “Yeah, sure you are.” He pursed his lips for a second before motioning up the street with a small movement of his chin, “My place is just up ahead, and I got a first-aid kit. It’ll clean better than those dirty napkins.”

And it’s most likely the blood loss that has Billy  _ actually  _ considering it. Or, maybe he crashed and died? Because Steve Harrington was inviting him over to his  _ house _ . 

After another gush of blood, Billy leans his head back against his seat in defeat and says a sharp, “Lead the way, pretty boy.”

<>

Steve wasn’t lying when he said ‘just up ahead’, because in just over a minute he was following the BMW into the driveway of a fucking Hawkins mansion. It was actually ridiculous, from what Billy could see from his place in his car. He watched Steve leave his car and motion for Billy to follow, which he did, and then he was inside the Harringrove residence and holy shit. 

Pretty boy really was loaded.

“Uh, follow me…” Steve led him further into the house and to the kitchen, searching in a cupboard above the stove to find the white first-aid kit while Billy glanced around again. 

“Nice place,” he muttered from under the napkins, his voice a lazy sarcasm as he continued, “How often d’you get lost in here?”

Steve made an amused sound at that, which piqued Billy’s intertest. “Comes with time, I guess. I’m usually here alone, so it kinda freaks me out when I hear other people around.”

Tommy had mentioned that Steve was usually alone in this big house when Billy had first arrived almost a week ago. People in Hawkins loved to overshare, no matter who it was they were talking to. “Your parents not around?” He asked evenly, leaning against the counter with a careful breath.

“They travel a lot for work,” Steve shrugged as he pulled out the kit and turned back to Billy, taking in the state of him.

And honestly, Billy wasn’t feeling too hot. His throat suddenly felt thick as he swallowed down more of his blood and oh yeah, he was hungover, wasn’t he? He leaned heavily against the counter then, his eyes sliding shut as he gripped the counter’s edge in an effort to not throw up. 

“Hey,” the other boy muttered, his hand on Billy’s shoulder, “Dude. Are you okay? ‘Cause if you’re gonna puke, please do it in the sink.”

Billy managed a guttural laugh at that, as if the notion of him getting sick was outrageous, and forced himself to open his eyes to see the concerned look on the other’s face. 

“Do you want me to…?” Steve asked softly, opening up the kit and beginning to fish around in it, his other hand still on Billy’s arm which had slid from his shoulder down to his bicep. He probably looked worse for wear.

And, Billy couldn’t remember the last time someone had cleaned him up like this, except for his mom. That seemed like a lifetime ago now, buried deep in a mix of hurt and anger and sweet nostalgia. Ever since she left and Billy was left to deal with his father, he was used to cleaning himself up. 

Instead of replying, he managed one short nod, careful of his nausea. 

Steve’s hands were delicate and careful as they cleaned, and he stood so close that Billy could feel the heat of his body through their clothes. It stirred up something in him, something different from the usual reaction he got when a pretty thing stood so close to him. It felt almost like an itch for a cigarette; a craving. 

He hadn’t even noticed that his eyes had slipped shut until Steve spoke again, his voice light and casual, “So...I think you should stop being such an asshole to me.”

Surprised, Billy managed a tiny grin at that, his eyes still shut as he drawled, “You  _ think  _ so? You got enough brain cells to do that?”

“Seriously, Hargrove,” Steve huffed, and Billy heard him toss a wet, most-likely blood-stained alcohol wipe into the sink, “I know what you’re doing, ‘cause I did the same thing. You’re the new Keg King, you’ve got girls lined up begging for a taste, and you’re making sure me and everyone else knows it.” 

He paused for a moment, so Billy cracked open an eye just to see that pretty face pinched in thought.

“Just... _ stop,”  _ Steve sighed, like he was genuinely tired at this point, “I don’t have any interest in any of that shit anymore. I just want to get through my last year of high school, man. That’s it.”

Billy opened both eyes then and stared at the older boy through a half-lidded gaze, as he usually did. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just absorbed his words. Steve didn’t have an interest in any of this top-dog, alpha-male bullshit. And hell yeah it was disappointing to hear, because how was he supposed to get his kicks now? Bully some freshman? Fuck that. He had his eyes set on Steve ever since day one, and he wasn’t going to let him get away that easy.

Managing a smirk, Billy muttered lightly, “You’re no fun.”

Steve’s expression didn’t change. “I mean it, Hargrove. You can have it all, just leave me alone.”

Bristling at Steve’s easy submission, Billy furrowed his brows and lowered his voice, “What the hell did that chick do to you, man? You used to be a different person, according to Tommy.”

Steve’s expression finally shifted at that, hardened into a look that Billy instantly adored, “Tommy doesn’t know shit,” he spit, “And keep Nancy’s name out of your mouth.  _ You  _ don’t know shit, either.”

“But what if I  _ want  _ to know?” Bill pressed, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes.

That caught Steve off-guard, if the way his eyes widened said anything. His voice was small when he spoke again, “You…-- _ what? _ ”

“A truce,” Billy hummed, happy to have the upper hand again and leading the conversation, “We start over. What do you say, King Steve?”

It takes Steve a few moments to think, with his unreadable expression focused on Billy so intently. Staring like this, Billy finally saw the bit of dark under Steve’s eyes - like he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a while. And he wondered why. Why, why, why, Harrington?

“I’ll probably live to regret this,” Steve sighed in resignation as he stuck his hand out, “Alright. Truce.”

Billy took that hand in his own, giving it a firm shake and feeling goosebumps travel up his arm. Grinning, he echoed, “Truce.”

They stood there for a few moments, hands together and staring, before Steve pulled away and began to rip open another alcohol wipe. “So, I don’t think it’s broken?” He piped up as he turned back to Billy, “Still looks straight to me. Bet it’ll hurt like a bitch and maybe swell, though.” He cleaned up a little more, and Billy watched him, unabashed despite Steve’s soft orders to close his eyes. 

When he was done, Billy was handed a small bag of frozen peas that he tenderly pressed to his nose, hissing again at the contact. He saw Steve’s worried look and then the brunette spoke up, “...what happened, anyway?”

“None of your business.” Billy clipped. 

Steve huffed and crossed his arms as he leaned against the counter.

Then Billy grinned, amused, “You’re pouting.”

“No, I’m not.”

“What were  _ you  _ doing driving so fast and so early?” Billy asked, turning the tables.

Steve grimaced for a moment, turning around to clean up his mess idly before admitting, “...I was going to buy some flowers.”

Billy nearly choked on a laugh, “Harrington, I’m not your mom. You can tell me you were driving home after banging some chick last night.”

The glare Steve threw over his shoulder for that remark made Billy feel warm inside, but the eye roll immediately after was just as sweet. God, Harrington was adorable and sexy all wrapped up into one perfect package. 

“No, dickhead. I mean it.” Steve huffed and walked over to the garbage can to dump the empty wrappers in it, calling Billy a dickhead as if they’d been friends since forever, “I wanted to see how much roses would be. I...wanted to apologize to Nancy.”

Maybe it was the sheer stupidity of Steve’s idea, or maybe it was Billy’s hangover that made him feel like puking again. “You wanted to  _ what _ ?” He balked, pushing off of the counter and slowly making his way over to sit at the kitchen table, “Why the fuck would you do that?”

Steve frowned at him, “Because I was...wrong?” 

“Jesus fuck, Harrington,” Billy laughed humourlessly, setting the peas down onto the table so he could stare at Steve head-on, “Listen. I was there that night - at Tina’s. While Nancy was chugging back that nasty punch, you were trying to keep her straight. She was totally going off the rails while you were trying to stop it from becoming a trainwreck -- which made you spill her drink and then  _ you  _ looked like the asshole.” Billy ran his tongue over his teeth, looking at Steve like he was a puzzle to solve, “And she said something to you that really hurt, right? That’s why you left and then she fucked off with Byers. But the point is, to me, you didn’t do anything wrong. You were looking out for her. And if she didn’t see it that way, well…” He shrugged, picking up the bag of peas again.

He knew he had no grounds for Steve to listen to him, but goddamn it felt so good to say. Nancy Wheeler was a frigid bitch from what he knew and saw. None of his girls back home ever thought to treat Billy like that, and he made sure the Hawkins chicks he’d gone out with knew it, too. Perhaps it was time for Steve to set his boundaries and plant his feet.

And, Christ, Steve looked like a kicked puppy. Whatever Wheeler said to him that night really dug a deep hole in him. 

“So…” Steve murmured, “No flowers?”

Billy huffed with a bit of amusement, and smiled as he spoke, “I think you know the answer, pretty boy.”

“But what if I don’t?” Steve groaned as he pulled up a chair at the table, “Honestly, I’ve never been good at relationships or being a boyfriend. I was with a different girl every other weekend before her. I just figured that if I apologized and gave her flowers, she’d want to talk to me again, or we’d kiss and make up.”

“I’ve had my fair share of girlfriends and shit,” Billy sighed, keeping the word ‘boyfriend’ out of his mouth, “And never did I  _ ever  _ apologize for shit I didn’t understand or do. Because what’s the fucking point? If Wheeler is mad at you, let  _ her  _ come to  _ you _ . Don’t go running back like a dog with its tail between its legs. You’re better than that.”

Steve pursed his lips and fiddled with his fingers, clearly taking a second to think it all over before caving, “Yeah. I think you’re right,” and then there was this shift in Steve, Billy saw it in the way he squared his shoulders and sharpened his gaze, his voice no longer wavering as he continued to speak, “It’s always been  _ me  _ apologizing for shit, even before that night, and I wasn’t in the wrong for most of it. And I’m not going to do it again.”

Billy grinned, his tongue poking out between his teeth as he chuckled, “Hell fuckin’ yeah.”

<>

Steve must enjoy having a guy his age to hang out with, Billy muses the next evening as they work on the BMW and sip on cans of beer while laughing together, as if they’d done it before. It’s almost like they’re trying to make up for lost time. Steve was making good on his ‘oath’ in regards to not running back to Nancy and Billy silently swore to himself that he’d make it his mission that Steve never did; he felt only a little stupid about his previous plans, because with the truce it was almost like a whole new side of Steve was showing itself. He smiled more, he made an effort to meet Billy’s eyes when they spoke, and his shoulders weren’t up to his fucking ears anymore. It was nice to see, and Billy was constantly reminding himself not to fucking  _ stare  _ all the goddman time. 

On Monday, their budding friendship spread around school fast. Everyone speculated, like the fucking gossips that Hawkins teens were, because why was Billy hanging out with Steve? And by the time second period ended, there were rumors. The few he’d heard had annoyed him, like he was blackmailing Steve into doing things for him or Billy was trying to get to Nancy through Steve. Stupid shit like that. He didn’t know where they came from and who benefitted from spreading them, but they were grating on his nerves as a new one seemed to pop up every hour.

Steve told him to ignore it, during a break between classes. No one had anything better to do in this town other than to gossip and drink; one of the two they could do at school, so they did. Billy still fucking hated it, and hated himself for causing it. If he hadn’t treated Steve like he had in the beginning, this shit wouldn’t be happening.

At lunch, Tommy watched as Billy dropped his tray down next to Steve’s at his lonely table. It kind of felt like he was sending a message, and he hoped Tommy and the rest of his posse weren’t too dense to figure it out.  _ Steve and I are friends now. _

The whole school ate it up instantly, expecting Billy to dig into Steve, and then it almost felt like a stunned silence as Billy sat down and dug into his pudding cup without a word.

Steve was staring at him, unabashed, before leaning in, “What the fuck?” He whispered, and Billy saw him glance over at Nancy, who was sitting with Johnathon a few tables away. They were both watching when Billy glanced over to them before turning his attention back to the brunette beside him.

He licked lewdly at his spoon, curled his tongue around the curve of the metal, and smirked as Steve shifted minutely in his chair. Interesting. “What? I can’t sit with you at lunch? Too cool for me, Harrington?”

And maybe it was because Steve knew what it was like to have a room’s attention on him, knew what it was like to bully someone to be popular, and their new friendship was still on unsteady legs so perhaps that’s why Harrington says, “Dude, if you’re going to cause a scene or something, just...don’t, okay?”

Billy chuckled, leaning back in his chair with legs spread wide as he dug into his pudding again, “I’m literally just sitting here to eat my shitty school lunch and talk to you. Be cool, man.”

Steve’s pretty face scrunched a little, like it did when he was trying to figure out a hard math question, and he opened his mouth to retort before snapping it shut. “Okay,” he said evenly, shifting again in his chair as he poked at his peas, glancing around the room before landing on Billy again. Billy nodded towards the food set in front of Steve and squared his jaw, knowing that Steve understood what he meant.

_ Truce, remember? _

Like a held breath, the lunchroom seemed to sigh in a mix of relief and disappointment once Billy brought up basketball practice and Steve began to slowly accept this weird new reality he was given. There was to be no fight, no tension. Eventually, other acquaintances began to come around, sitting at their table and striking up conversation. Any sort of rude or demeaning comments towards Steve earned them a glare from Billy, because fuck them, Billy wasn’t going to let them do that to Steve again. If people liked Billy and wanted to be liked by him, they had to accept he was going to hang around Steve. The older boy caught Billy’s stare once lunch was nearly over, and offered Billy the smallest smile, his brown eyes lit with what Billy wished was adoration, but probably wasn’t. He winked in return, smirking as he turned to Vicky next to him who was going on and on about a date.

By the end of the day, pretty much everyone had accepted that Steve and Billy were friends. 

Everyone except Tommy and Carol, of course. 


	4. Chapter 4

The rest of the week had gone by without much development, but Steve was really starting to accept that he and Nancy were done, from what Billy understood. She walked right by in the hall without acknowledging either of them and Billy rolled his eyes because of it as Steve huffed in annoyance. Steve sat with him during study hall and Billy would elbow him in the ribs when he stared for too long at her and Johnathon across the room, their noses buried in weird books. Billy felt almost desperate at times to have Steve’s attention on him, craving it like a cigarette, and he melted when Steve would smile at him or joke around with him after school. 

Billy had spent almost every evening at Steve’s that week, one day smoking a joint as they listened to Steve’s shitty music in his room and laughed until their sides hurt at something he couldn’t remember. On Thursday, Billy had brought up the idea of going to a party and Steve was hesitant, but caved when Billy threatened to smash his _Wham!_ vinyl. As a joke, of course. Billy had meant it as a joke, but not really, because fuck _Wham!_.

The party was at his not-girlfriend Vicky’s, and it had a pretty modest turnout. Steve still hadn’t shaken his nerves because Billy saw it in his tensed shoulders and wide eyes, but he clapped his hand down onto the older boy’s shoulder as they walked up the street to the house.

“Jesus, Harrington. Relax. You're always so wound up. It’s just a party - we’re gonna drink and smoke and have a good time. Nothing to be worried about.”

Steve glanced over at him and sighed with a micro pout, his eyes shifting down as he murmured, “Yeah, well...I don’t exactly have fond memories of the last time I went to a party.”

Fuck. Billy sucked on his teeth lightly, and he felt like a real jackass as he muttered back, “Shit. I didn’t mean to be a dick, I just want you to have fun--”

“But, _why?_ ” Steve interrupted, stopping in his tracks. Billy stopped after a step or two and turned to face him, listening as Steve continued to speak, “Listen. I get that we’re sorta friends now and it’s cool, but, you don’t have to look out for me. I can look out for myself.”

Did Steve think Billy was stupid enough to believe him? He was beginning to know exactly what kind of hot mess Steve Harrington was, and in result laughed dryly before speaking, shaking his head as he did, “I don’t think so, princess. We both know that you _do_ need someone to look out for you, because you’ve done a pretty good job at pushing people away - and I’m not letting you push _me_ away.”

Steve scowled in return, clearly not getting what Billy was saying - and it made Billy want to rip his fucking hair out. “After I ditched my friends for Nancy, they wouldn’t even look at me. And when she left me for Byers, I had _no one_ . I was like a fucking social leper or something and _nobody_ wanted to talk to me. So, forgive me if I’m a bit hesitant to accept you as my new buddy that wants to look out for me - especially after that shit you pulled when we first met.”

Tilting his head back to the night sky, Billy let out a frustrated groan, because _Jesus fucking Christ_. He stared at the other before closing the distance between them with pursed lips, “Do you want me to apologize, Harrington?” He asked in a low voice, enjoying the way Steve eyed him wearily, “Fine. I’m sorry that I was an asshole to you for like, a week, when I was trying to be top dog in Hawkins - fucking Bumfuck, Indiana.” He paused, stopped and stared at Steve as he let out a huff, waiting for his reaction, “There. You happy?”

Steve bit his lower lip, sucked it between his teeth and Billy glanced down to watch him worry it. His lips were so pink, so plush, so fucking pretty that it sorta pissed him off. And then those lips curved into a smile, and Billy flicked his gaze back up, seeing the mirth in Steve’s dark eyes as he spoke, “I mean. No? Yes? I didn’t think you’d actually apologize.”

Was Harrington being _playful?_ Because the way he was looking at Billy and the tone of his voice suggested nothing else. Billy stared at him for another moment, simply taking him in, before huffing in amusement and smirking, “I almost didn’t. Consider yourself fucking lucky.”

And seeing Steve’s smile grow further made Billy swallow hard before muttering, “C’mon. Let’s go in, and don’t let anyone push you around.”

He followed Steve inside once the door was opened, instantly glancing around the full house before his eye caught on Tommy, who was staring right back from his spot across the room. Great. If Tommy was going to try anything tonight, Billy needed a few drinks in him before he even began thinking of how to deal with that.

“I need a fucking drink,” Steve sighed, drawing Billy’s attention back to him. 

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Billy hummed with a smirk, leading the way and pushing his way through the crowd towards the kitchen.

<>

A few ‘drinks’ turned into a few shots by the time Billy was done, pleasantly buzzed and laughing as Steve gagged after his tequila shot. He wrapped an arm around the other and pulled him close, half-whispered in Steve’s ear to ask if he wanted a smoke, immensely enjoying the closeness and how he could smell Steve’s shampoo, but he was heading outside by himself as Steve was being ushered over for a dance by a pretty blonde.

It only bothered him a little, because he was happy to see Steve being welcomed back, but he also wished that Steve would dance with _him_ and only him.

The chill of the night made him shiver as he lit up his cig, even with his leather jacket on. It was eerily quiet out, the music a dull sound out here, and he found himself eyeing the darkness that the patio light didn’t reach. There was always a fucking sort of uneasiness to this town that Billy tried to ignore, drank and smoked to keep his mind off of it, but moments like this, when he was alone outside...it was hard to ignore.

He heard the slide of the patio door behind him, open and close, and then Tommy’s voice. “Billy. What the fuck, man?”

_Ah, there he is._

Billy turned around, sucked on his cigarette as he leaned back on the railing, watching Tommy from where he stood. “What the fuck, what?” He echoed, mildly amused.

Tommy almost looked betrayed, if Billy’s tipsy mind had to put a name to it. “ _Harrington?_ Really? You fucking know how I feel about him.”

Billy shrugged, “We made a truce.”

His friend scoffed loudly at that, clearly a little drunk, “Yeah? How’d that happen?”

There was no way he was going to tell Tommy what _really_ happened, so he shrugged and lied a little, “He helped me out when I was stuck on the side of the road last weekend. Car’s been a piece of shit lately, and he gave me a ride to call my dad.”

Tommy’s arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the house, mulling it over in his head, “So? Doesn’t mean you guys have to be friends ‘cause he helped you out.”

Billy furrowed his brows in irritation as he flicked his cigarette butt away, breathing out smoke as he spoke, “We talked while I waited. Turns out he’s not half bad. I don’t know why you’re so hung up on him, Hagan.”

“Because he and I were friends since we were kids and he fucking _ditched_ me for Nancy Wheeler,” Tommy all but growled, his hands clenching into fists, “What kind of ‘friend’ does that, huh? Do you know how much that blows?”

Billy sniffed, “Yeah, that was shitty, but they’re not together anymore. You gotta move past shit sometimes, man. Maybe he wants to be friends again.”

Tommy seemed to cool a little at hearing that, his fists loosening and thank fuck, because Billy wasn’t in the mood to fight tonight. “Did he tell you that?” Tommy half-slurred, his voice soft.

And, oh shit, were things _actually_ falling into place for once? He considered his response: say yes, a little white lie that might have Tommy and Steve putting the past behind them and becoming friends again, or say no and permanently damage something special? 

Maybe Billy _could_ have it all. Being friends with Steve risked his position in school, one slip up and people would turn on him - gone would be the adoration and praise, which honestly, was all he had in this shit town. But, if he could have Steve and keep Tommy _and_ the rest of Hawkins? Fucking win-win.

“Yeah,” Billy drawled, blinking slowly, “I think he’s scared or some shit. Might be better if you went to him.”

Tommy, for probably once in his life, was quiet. He was clearly thinking about it, and Billy took that as his cue. 

He reached into his jacket pocket and offered Tommy a cigarette as he walked by, watched him take it, and murmured, “Think about it.” before returning inside.

Finding Steve wasn’t hard, he was still dancing away and Billy smirked as he watched. Steve danced like a total dork and it was almost painful to watch, but he was grinning and singing along to the song, so obviously happy that Billy felt his chest warm.

And fuck, that was dangerous.

“Steve!” He called, beckoning the older boy over and wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulders again as he steered them away, back to the kitchen for another drink, “I think Tommy wants to talk to you,” he said, weaving around people.

Steve frowned and looked at him like he was crazy, “ _What?_ ”

Billy let him go as they approached the island, grabbing the tequila bottle as he spoke, “Yeah, something about being friends again or some shit,” he muttered as he flicked some liquid out of a shot glass and refilled it with tequila, handing it to a confused Steve before pouring one for himself, “But, let him come to you. I think he’s trying to find the right words or something.”

What was a little manipulation between friends for the greater good?

Steve’s pretty mouth hung open in shock for a minute, his eyes wide as he looked at Billy, who was smirking at him. 

“You waiting for a dick or something?” Billy leered with a laugh, tapping Steve’s chin lightly.

“Fuck you,” Steve snapped his mouth shut, and Billy _wished_.

They took their shots at the count of three, and Billy meanly snatched a lime wedge away from Steve, stuffing it into his own mouth with a laugh as Steve gagged again. 

<>

Billy had to wait until later for Tommy to come around, alone, nodding towards Steve with a short, “Harrington. Outside.”

And Steve, drunk and wide-eyed, looked at Billy. And Billy lifted his brows before motioning to ‘go’ with his head. He watched him get up from the couch that he, Billy, Vicky, and a girl named Tracy were sitting at, and watched the two exit to the patio. 

“What the hell?” Tracy frowned, “Are they gonna fight or something, Billy?”

Billy shrugged, “Dunno. Hope not, ‘cause I wanna be there if they do,” he smirked, “Who do you think would win?”

Vicky, who had also been watching the two boys from her spot under Billy’s arm, turned back to him and gave a shrug, “Hopefully Steve - Lord knows he needs a win.” She placed her hand on his thigh and gave him _that_ look, her voice soft as she said, “How about we go upstairs while we wait for them to come back?”

And while Billy wasn’t dating Vicky, she was the only girl in this town that he could actually tolerate and have a half-decent conversation with. That, and she was good to keep around for nights like this, when he had too much energy than he knew what to do with. And while he couldn’t keep Steve out of his head, worried that Tommy might actually fight him or do something equally as stupid, he followed her up to her room. 

When they came back later, Billy’s shirt open to his belly button and a fresh bruise just under his jaw, Tommy and Steve were on the couch talking animatedly, like their mouths couldn’t keep up with their words. 

Vicky giggled as she walked over, saying, “Well, well - look who kissed and made up!”

Steve looked up at her semi-glazed eyes, took in her wrinkled clothes and messy hair, and then looked over to Billy to see his similar state - and the hickey on his neck. 

And, maybe Billy was drunk or hopeful or both, but Steve looked _jealous_. He was staring directly at the hickey on Billy’s neck as Billy walked over, leaning over to cross his arms over the back edge of the couch between Steve and Tommy, and smirked knowingly down at the former. 

“Glad you two made up, Harrington,” he hummed, licking his lips and watching how Steve’s eyes flicked down to watch him do it, “Don’t tell me you’re going to stop hanging out with me now that you and Tommy are back together?”

Tommy laughed at that, “Stop being a dick, Hargrove. I still have to tell Carol, she’s probably got a few things to say to Stevie.”

Billy lit up at that, still staring at Steve who was staring right back, echoing, “Stevie?”

“He calls me that when he’s being a dick, which is like, always,” Steve smirked, looking at Tommy now.

Vicky piped up suddenly, “Guys, not to be a total downer, but it’s close to midnight and my parents are coming back soon…”

“Time to go, Harrington,” Billy hummed, pushing himself off the back of the couch and over to Vicky, who kissed his cheek, so he gave her ass a pat, knowing Steve was watching. It was such a thrill knowing that Steve was possibly jealous, and who was Billy if he didn’t feed into that?

The walk back to his car was quiet, but Billy didn’t mind. It was nice in comparison to the loud talking and music he’d listen to for most of the night. Even the drive back to Steve’s was pretty quiet, but the radio filled the silence enough for it to not be awkward. 

When he pulled up to the Harrington residence, he parked and said, “”Night, pretty boy. And really, I’m glad that you and Tommy worked shit out. I won’t have to listen to him bitch anymore.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed, looking at his dark house before turning to Billy, “You wanna come in for a bit? I have some beer.”

Billy shut his car off far too quickly for his liking and said, “Say no more.”

<>

An hour had passed in a flash as they talked about anything and everything, drinking beer with the TV on some random channel, the volume low enough for it to be inaudible under their voices and soon enough Billy was feeling quite drunk again. Maybe the beers had been a bad idea.

“Y’know,” Steve slurred as he tossed his empty can towards the others on the coffee table, “When I first saw you, it was in the parking lot at school, and it sort of felt like I’d met you before and I couldn’t put my finger on it…”

Billy thumbed at the drops of condensation on his can, staring down at it as he replied, “Not possible, Harrington. I didn’t meet you until that night at the party.” But despite his words, he knew what Steve meant, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Steve tilted his head back, stared at the ceiling, and murmured, “I know it doesn’t make sense or anything, but when I was a kid...I think you were in one of my dreams?”

It was like a cold rush washed over Billy’s body, and he snapped his gaze up to the boy on the other end of the couch, watching him. 

There was no fucking way.

It was just a dream.

Billy spoke softly, “What was it about?”

Steve shrugged, “I was on the beach, and there was another kid making a sandcastle. I just remember he had curly blond hair and lived in California.”

“Pretty much described half the population there, genius,” Billy muttered, still not wanting to believe. There were _zero_ chances of this ever happening.

But, he knew stranger things had happened in Hawkins. 

What the fuck was with this town and its people? Little boys going missing and flying across the country in their dreams to later meet that person in real life? 

Maybe Billy was too drunk and this wasn’t even happening. Maybe it was just one big fucking coincidence. 

“Yeah,” Steve laughed softly, without any real humor behind it, “Guess you’re right, it’s impossible.” 

They sat in silence for a moment, and Billy felt a tension there as Steve got up to go to the kitchen. Billy eyed him before getting up and following, watching Steve grab two more cans from his fridge from his spot against the wall. Steve straightened and turned and jumped, startled.

“Jesus, Billy. Don’t scare me like that.” Steve handed him the two cans and Billy took them silently, made his way towards the patio doors with them, fully intending to enjoy the cool air out by the pool because he was beginning to feel a little warm - but Steve cleared his throat softly and it stopped Billy in his tracks.

“Uh,” Steve began, so Billy glanced over his shoulder at him, “How about we go back to the couch, instead?”

And it was Steve’s house and Steve’s beer, so Billy shrugged quietly before turning and following the other boy towards the living room.

“Why not by the pool, princess? Too cold for you?” Billy teased lightly, cracking a can open and handing it to Steve before opening his and taking a seat.

“Uh,” Steve said again, and Billy saw the look of drunken unease he shot towards the back door before looking at Billy again, “Yeah. Too cold.”

And Billy found it hard to not focus on Steve’s uneasiness. “Liar,” he accused as he lifted his drink to his mouth, “And a shitty one at that, too.”

Steve scoffed at him, rolled his eyes like a complete brat, and it made Billy smile around his drink. “I’m not a shitty liar. I just don’t want to go outside, asshole.”

“But it sounds like there’s a story behind that,” Billy hummed, leaning back into the couch.

“It…” Steve eyed the coffee table in front of him before shaking his head and looking over to him, “Honestly, man, it’s fucked up. I can’t even begin to tell you about it--”

“You can try,” Billy interrupted, staring into those brown eyes as he took a long sip.

“No,” Steve swallowed thickly, his gaze unwavering, “I promised not to.”

“Ugh, fine,” Billy sniffed, breaking the eye contact to look around the room, “Kinda creepy out there, anyway…” he muttered, recalling earlier when he’d been outside of the party alone, felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he did. “D’you...ever feel like something’s watching you when you’re outside?” He asked, his voice slow and thoughtful.

“Oh, fuck off,” Steve groaned before taking a long sip of his beer.

“No, I mean it,” Billy said, smacking the couch cushion that sat between them, “Every time I’m outside alone, it’s fucked up how it makes me feel. You ever get that way?”

And Steve looked at him, in this weird way, with something in his eyes that said ‘yes’ but there was something more that Billy couldn’t really understand. Like maybe Steve had seen some fucked up stuff.

Quietly, Billy asked, “Is that why you don’t wanna go sit outside by the pool?”

Steve shifted in his seat, a silent war going on in his head before he brought his beer up to his mouth and gulped down the rest of the can. His brows pinched, he stood rather wobbly and made his way back to the kitchen, asking around a muffled burp, “You wanna ‘nother beer?”

And it was pretty irritating that Steve wasn’t telling him _why_ , but he figured it was best not to force him to talk. “Sure,” he called back, and after a moment of contemplation, he drained his beer, too.

When Steve came back, it was quiet and tense. Billy entertained the thought that maybe he should apologize, because it seemed like the right thing to do, although he wasn’t really used to it. He rarely apologized for anything, but seeing Steve uncomfortable and uneasy made him want to make it all better.

But, before he could even speak, Steve grabbed his beer and cracked it open, sucking at the foam that bubbled on top before saying, “I wanna tell you what happened, at Tina’s.”

And Billy’s attention did a whole one-eighty; from stressing out about apologizing to wanting to know how Steve Harrington’s heart was broken.

“Yeah?” Billy muttered as he watched Steve take another big gulp of his beer.

“Yeah,” Steve winced, burping a little, “So...Nancy and I, we…” he frowned and looked over at Billy, his eyes a little red, “We went through some fucked up shit together last year. She lost her best friend Barb here, at my house, like...she went missing, and she still hasn’t been found.” Steve took another sip of his beer and Billy wondered what the fuck he’d gotten himself into, “And Nancy is _obsessed_ with it - and I totally get why, but, it seemed more important than our relationship and we were fighting about it almost constantly whenever it was brought up. We used to eat dinner with Barb’s parents every week, and it was always so fucking awkward and sad and I really, really hated it, Billy…” Steve wiped at his eyes and looked at the TV as he continued, “And, before that night at Tina’s, I told Nancy we were going so we could just have fun and be teenagers, ‘cause I knew she was always worried about Barb and her parents, and she finally agreed. So, we went and...you were there, you know what happened. And when we were in the bathroom, she…” Steve swallowed again, probably around that lump in his throat because he had tears in his eyes again, “She called us bullshit. Me and her, our relationship, and...I left. She didn’t love me, and I don’t know if she ever did. It kind of...felt like it confirmed what I thought for a long time - that we wouldn’t work no matter how hard I tried or how bad I wanted us to…”

“Jesus,” is all Billy could really say, his heart hurting for Steve as he watched the older boy wipe his eyes again. “Shit. That’s fucking rough.”

“Yeah,” Steve sniffed, and finally looked at Billy, smiling something sad, “And I was so ready to get those stupid flowers and apologize…”

Billy smiled, huffing out a tiny laugh as he leaned over and patted Steve’s knee, wanting to wrap him up in his arms instead. “Yeah, fuck that. Flowers are the last thing she deserves.”

Steve shrugged, his leg shifting closer to Billy’s hand almost without thought, his rambling continuing, “Maybe I was just a horrible boyfriend? Maybe if I just shut up and did what she wanted, we’d still be together.”

And hearing that made Billy’s blood boil, so much that he all but growled, “ _Fuck_ no, Steve. You’re not some mindless puppet she can control or force into things, and honestly? She was stupid to even try. You might not want to fight anymore for--for her, for Keg King, or whatever else, but you’re not going to roll over and show your belly to _anyone_. Especially while I’m around, ‘cause I know you’re better than that.”

He wanted to blame it on the alcohol, because he’d said more when he’d meant to, but Billy could swear that Steve never heard anyone tell him anything like that before with the way Steve’s jaw slackened and his lips parted, his big eyes flicking back and forth between Billy’s like Billy had just told him the world’s oldest secret.

“I…” Steve swallowed, his eyes dropping to Billy’s lips as Billy licked them, “Uh…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Billy huffed, taking a sip of his beer, “I was just...talking.”

“But you meant it?” Steve muttered.

Billy rolled his eyes a little and looked away, because if he kept looking at Steve he’d probably do something stupid. So, he muttered, “Yeah. I did.”

It was quiet again, for a moment, before Billy finally turned to look at Steve and caught him staring at the hickey on his neck. That look was clear on his face again, something like jealousy but not quite, and Billy felt his skin prickle.

“So,” Steve slurred a little, his eyes making a slow journey up to Billy’s face again, “You and Vicky, huh? You two going out?”

“Vicky,” Billy smirked, shaking his head minutely, “Nah, we’re just...fucking around.”

Steve made a face that said ‘ah, of course’ as he nodded, taking a sip of his beer before continuing, “You don’t wanna date her, or what?”

Billy huffed and gave Steve a look, “Don’t get it twisted, she’s a nice girl and a great lay, but I’m not exactly eager to commit. She’s fun and doesn’t push for more. We’re alright with that.”

“I kinda forget what that’s like,” Steve admitted, leaning back into his seat on the couch and turning his head to look at Billy, his eyelids a little heavy as a result, “You happy with that?”

He looked so pretty like that, staring at Billy with half-lidded eyes and his lips parted just so. It took a lot to not close the distance between them and kiss him, to find out what Steve Harrington tasted like--

The thought made Billy snap back to himself, clearing his throat quietly, “What did you say?”

And Steve’s toothy grin was beautiful when it was directed at him. Jesus Christ. “I said, are you happy with just fucking around?”

“I guess,” Billy shrugged, so warm and drunk that he was not really thinking anymore as he spoke, “The guy I was fucking around with in Cali tried to push me into a relationship, and--” _Shit_.

Steve’s eyes were wide with the alarmed look that crossed his face, but he didn’t move, so it was almost kind of funny if Billy wasn’t seconds away from freaking the fuck out. 

“... _guy?_ ” Steve squeaked, because there was no mistaking ‘guy’ for ‘girl’ when Billy hadn’t even tried to correct himself.

It was like drunk word vomit mixed with adrenaline, because the wall across from him suddenly had headlights moving across it and it distracted him as he spoke, “Yeah, I’m bi--who the fuck is _that?_ ” He turned in his seat, and yeah, those were headlights shining through the windows.

He turned back to Steve to see him also staring at the window, his alarmed look never faltering as he asked calmly, “What day is it?”

“Does it look like I carry a fucking calendar around?” Billy snapped lightly, stiffening as Steve suddenly snatched the half-empty beer from his hand.

“Grab the empty cans!” Steve yelled over his shoulder as he rushed off to the kitchen, bumping into the end table as he went, “It’s my folks!”

Confused, drunk, and very alarmed, Billy wordlessly gathered the empty cans in his arms and rushed off after Steve, swearing as two cans noisily fell to the ground. It was a flurry of movement for about two minutes before they heard the key in the door and then Steve was ushering them back into the living room just as Mr. and Mrs. Harrington walked in with their luggage.

Steve’s mom gave a soft, startled gasp as she saw them, clearly not expecting to see two teenagers in her living room at close to three in the morning.

“Steven!” She breathed in relief, stepping further into the house as her husband walked in behind her and shut the door, “I didn’t expect you to be home - is everything alright?”

“Um, totally fine, yeah,” Steve cleared his throat, “Didn’t mean to scare you, I was just visiting with my friend, Billy. Billy Hargrove.”

“Hargrove?” Mr. Harrington piped up as he hung his coat before turning back to the boys, his dark eyes set on Billy, “Neil’s your father, I presume?”

“Yes, sir,” Billy said, remembering his manners despite his intoxication, “It’s nice to meet you both, and I apologize for scaring you, Mrs. Harrington. I was just about to leave.”

He felt Steve grab the back of his shirt, tugging on it gently, and he stepped back to let the Harringtons by with their huge suitcases. Jesus, he didn’t know they actually came in a size that big.

Mrs. Harrington spoke up again, smiling at Billy and he could see where Steve got his looks from, “I apologize for not exchanging anymore pleasantries, Billy, but we’re both extremely exhausted. And it’s so late, perhaps you should stay the night? We have--” She covered her mouth as a small yawn escaped, “Excuse me--a guest room.”

“That might be a good idea,” Billy smiled back, a bit tightly, “Thanks. Have a good night, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington.”

“Steven, please ensure that your friend is set up properly in the guest room,” Steve’s dad said as they went upstairs, “And that you both do not disturb us in the morning.”

“Yes!” Steve called back, his voice a little high, watching them and listening to the door close a few moments later.

Alone again, he turned back to Billy and they stared at each other before attempting to stifle their sudden burst of laughter.

“You looked so stupid,” Billy whispered with a grin, “Like a fuckin’ chicken running around with its head cut off.”

“Yeah, well, you’re no better, putting on your dumb Sunday school voice for my parents,” Steve grinned back, his voice also a whisper.

“I guess I should go,” Billy murmured after they took a minute to calm down, “Don’t want my old man sending out a search party or something.” Or knocking his head around for being out too late.

Steve hesitated, his brows furrowed, “May--maybe my mom’s right. Might be better if you stay the night. You can leave before they wake up?”

And Billy considered it. He was drunk, and if he crashed or hit someone on the drive back home, his dad would probably throttle him. If he didn’t come back for a night, he’d be locked in his room. He knew which was a better choice of the two.

“Alright,” he sighed, “But I’m leaving before the sun’s up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve hummed, “C’mon.”

The guest room isn’t anything special, kind of ugly like Steve’s room, and Billy has walked by it numerous times already during his visits but he’s never actually been in it until tonight.

“More blankets in the closet, if you get cold,” Steve hummed, his mouth still moving a little too slow as he spoke, “And...and you know where I’ll be. And where to get a glass of water. D’you want water?”

Billy flopped down onto the bed and shook his head, “No.” He stared at Steve, who was standing awkwardly at the door, eyeing the spot beside Billy. And Billy almost snorted his laugh before he smacked the spot beside him in invitation - and Steve shushed him with a grin as he shut the door and went over.

“My parents are in the next room, so shut up,” Steve said as he climbed onto the bed.

“Not the first time I’ve heard that one,” Billy teased, turning to face the other, who was sitting cross legged and glaring at him.

They don’t say anything once Steve’s comfortable but wobbly, and Billy knows he’s drunk because those brown eyes are unfocused and he’s licking his lips every ten seconds, probably so close to begging for a glass of water.

“You’re fucking wasted,” Billy murmured with a smirk.

“ _So?_ ” Steve rolled his eyes in response, which made him jerk in surprise as he lost his balance, scrambling to grab the comforter with both hands so he didn't fall off the bed.

“Jesus,” Billy laughed softly, shaking his head as he reached and tugged Steve towards him, smiling as Steve went easily and laid down beside him. He watched Steve get comfortable again, rubbing his flushed face into the pillow before turning to face Billy, his hair a mess. 

“Hey,” Steve murmured softly, and Billy lifted an eyebrow in response, “Thanks. For tonight. And...about--”

“Let’s forget about that,” Billy interrupted with a frown, already knowing what Steve meant, “I didn’t mean to say it. So, let’s just...drop it. Okay?”

Steve pressed his cheek to the pillow and blinked those big, dark eyes at him before murmuring, “But...what if I don’t wanna?”

“What do you mean?” Billy ignored the way his heart jumped.

“Like…” Steve licked his lips again, shifted so he could run his fingers through his wild hair, “I wanna know.”

“Know what?”

“Why.”

Billy frowned at him, “Ask me directly or I’m not telling you shit.”

Steve whined into the pillow before turning to face him again, “I mean, why...er, _how_ did you know? That you were... _are_ bisexual?”

“There, that wasn’t too hard, was it?” Billy couldn’t help but coo, which earned him a small glare in response. Regardless, he knew there was no going back now. If Steve wasn’t cool with talking about this, he wouldn’t be asking questions - he would have kicked Billy out a long time ago. So, he huffed and shrugged, “I knew girls were pretty when I was younger, and I thought that some boys were cute once I got a little older. It’s not a huge deal to the right people in Cali, so I got to...do stuff with guys. And I liked it just as much as when I did stuff with girls. So...yeah.”

Steve stared at him like he grew another head. “You...got to fool around with guys?”

“Yeah? Is that not what I said?” 

“It is, I just...can’t imagine it.”

Billy did snort a little at that, “Yeah, ‘cause you live in Hicktown. Any queers here are probably taken out back and shot.”

Steve frowned at that, “No. I mean, yeah, it’s not common, but…”

“Small town mindset,” Billy shrugged, “People are used to certain things, and if something sticks out, it’s noticed. Sometimes people are assholes about it. Sometimes not.”

There’s half a moment of silence before Steve suddenly asks, “What’s it like? With a guy?”

And maybe Billy was drunker than he thought, because he says, “I could show you.”

And Steve turns red at that, but then he’s biting his lower lip like he’s considering it. 

There was no fucking way.

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve grinned as he rubbed his face into the pillow again.

Billy watched him intently, his eyes half-lidded with a neutral expression. The bitter taste of disappointment settled on his tongue, yet hope bloomed in his chest. Steve thought he was joking, but he didn’t exactly turn Billy down - and when Billy thought of it, Steve had a habit of idly touching him and never pulling away when Billy got too close. Steve grabbed his arm when he wanted Billy’s attention, elbowed him in the side when Billy was being an asshole, claimed Billy as his lab partner, stared at Billy’s mouth when he licked his lips or stuck his tongue out to be crude, and he looked so fucking _jealous_ when he saw Billy with Vicky. Billy wasn’t stupid. He knew Steve was into him, and maybe he was just confused or unaware of it, but it was there. 

And yet, Billy still didn’t make a move. Even when Steve peeked at him, his face flushed and eyes shining from his hidden smile. He was like a beam of sunlight and Billy wanted to stay in that warmth.

“Maybe I should get to bed,” Steve muttered quietly, not moving from his spot.

Had they always been laying this close? When had Steve moved closer? Billy propped his head up onto his hand and stared down at the other boy, nodding in agreement, “Yeah. I gotta get a few hours in before I head back to my place. Get the fuck outta my bed, Harrington.”

It would be so easy to just duck his head down. He felt that tension that was there before a kiss, when you stared at the other person and waited to see who would make the first move - kind of like a game of chicken. Steve stared at him and Billy stared back, but neither moved.

Not until Steve huffed out a breath and sat up, the tension gone as he began to climb out of the bed. Billy watched him head to the door, opening it and stepping out, turning on his heel and leaning heavily against it. His cheek was pressed against it as he looked at Billy, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“G’night, Billy,” he murmured, looking like he didn’t want to leave with how he was hanging onto the door.

“‘Night. See you tomorrow?” Because what else were they going to do other than hang out again?

“Tomorrow,” Steve nodded and slowly closed the door, leaving Billy in the dark.


	5. Chapter 5

Billy spent most of the following morning nursing his hangover and wondering why the fuck he came out to Steve. It had been a mistake, but Steve’s eagerness to discuss it had caught him off-guard and his own eagerness to answer was probably due to the alcohol. He remembered the tension between them as they laid on the guest bed, and thought maybe he should have encouraged Steve, maybe he was curious, like Billy had been. The thought stirred something in him as he thought about it, but he pushed it away as he left his bed and made his way to the kitchen to face his father. Getting home had been easy when he woke up quite a bit more sober, and sneaking back into his room had actually gone pretty smoothly, so he hoped his dad wouldn’t pull anything this morning.

And as Billy’s new luck would have it, Neil and Susan were already gone - they left a note on the table saying they’d be back tomorrow afternoon. He read it just as Max noisily made her way into the kitchen, looking like she sucked a lemon as usual before curtly saying, “They were invited to a dinner party at a cabin or something. I’m going to the arcade, be back later.”

“Don’t get yourself into any shit you can’t handle,” he calls as she leaves, glancing over just in time to see her middle finger before she slams the door shut.

“Fucking shitbird,” he mutters to himself, tossing the note back onto the kitchen table. He doubted she was actually going to the arcade - he knew she had a thing for that kid, whatever his name was - Lucas? He seemed like bad news, because Billy knew his father’s racism and having Max hanging around him only meant that Billy would suffer for it. Somehow, Neil would find a way to make it his fault - he always did. And Max would rebel against Billy in any way she could. He’d tried to warn her not to do it, thought he’d scared her pretty good that one day, but she was back to her shitty attitude again. Christ, she was a pain in his ass.

His mood now bitter, Billy makes coffee and smokes a cigarette, his mind eventually drifting back to Steve. Like it always seemed to.

The past week had been fun, hanging with Steve and getting to know him. He was weird and funny and honestly kinda dumb, but in an endearing way. He was way too hard on himself and seemed to expect the worst, but he was warming up to Billy fast. He could tell in the way Steve relaxed his shoulders and felt comfortable in how Billy bossed him around at times, like he was used to it. Thanks to Wheeler, Billy knew why that was. 

But there was that edge to Steve that Billy liked, that he was basically obsessed with. It was in the way he pouted his lips and furrowed his brows, or how his voice went when Billy said something lewd or rude and he was tired of it. It was in the way Steve seemed to know when Billy was being a dick just for the sake of it or because he didn’t like someone - he’d smirk or roll his eyes. In ways like that, they were similar, a little mean and careless. But Steve was softened, his hard edges smoothed, and Billy didn’t know if he wanted to thank Wheeler for that or not. He liked to think that Steve complimented him in that way; pliable where Billy wasn’t and caring where Billy wouldn’t.

And with all of that, now Steve knew Billy was bi and he still wanted to hang out with him. It was too good to be true and he wondered when his luck would run out.

<>

Just as his hangover is about to disappear, he gets a call from Tommy. A few of them are getting together at Carol’s and he should come. And yes, Steve’s going to be there, so there was no reason for Billy not to go. 

And with Max gone for the day, Billy goes. 

There’s about a dozen people when he arrives, instinctively looking around for Steve - and catches him and Tommy in the kitchen getting a drink, talking and talking. 

He walks over with a smile that fades when they fail to acknowledge him.

He clears his throat, and finally they both look to him and smile.

“Hargrove! You’re here!” Tommy grins, instantly pouring another drink as Billy gives Steve a small smile that’s returned. “Here, man. You look like you need a drink.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m the only one,” Billy teases lightly, looking at Steve, “I’m surprised you’re here, you got pretty fucking wasted last night.”

“Fuck off, my head’s still pounding,” Steve says with a soft laugh before turning back to Tommy, “Anyway, I told her…”

Billy gets it. He interrupted them, so he takes his drink and fucks off like Steve said. He finds Carol in the next room, sitting on the couch with a few others, and so he chats with her for a bit. She can’t seem to believe the change of heart Tommy had - and she’s still weary of Steve, because she can forgive but not forget, apparently. And Billy gets it. He finishes his drink and on the way to get another, is interrupted by a cute brunette that steps in front of him with a small smirk.

“Hey, Hargrove - wanna share this?” She holds up a nicely rolled joint, and Billy knows a good time when he’s offered one.

“Sure,” he replies in a low tone, forgetting his cup on a nearby table, “I don’t think we’ve met before?”

“Cheryl,” she introduces herself as she places the joint between his lips, her brown eyes bright as she smiles and takes his hand, “C’mon, let’s go outside.”

He lets her lead them towards the back door, passing by Steve and Tommy in the kitchen, and Billy catches those brown bambi eyes watching him go. Steve gives him a confused look, and Billy shrugs before wiggling the joint pinched between his teeth with a grin. 

Funny how Steve only pays attention to him when there’s a girl all over him.

He smokes the joint with Cheryl slowly, both of them idly chatting and watching the sun disappear behind the trees. The weed’s alright for Hawkins, and Billy finds himself melting into the lawn chair as Cheryl talks about how she wants to visit Cali, would love to see the beaches, what was your favourite thing about it, Billy?

“Everything,” Billy hums, not really wanting to talk anymore because Cheryl’s crawling into his lap and kissing him. 

He doesn’t know how long they’re out there for, but the air turns chilly and they should go inside. He’s a little hard and spiteful as she takes his hand in hers again and leads them back in, and Billy’s high as the fucking sky as he steps back into the living room, his red, glazed eyes settling on Steve sitting on the couch with Tommy. There’s a few playing a drinking game on the coffee table and Carol’s busy changing the music, and Cheryl takes them over to a quiet little corner, not really pushing Billy onto the bean bag chair - he lets her. She settles into his lap again and reconnects their lips, and he can definitely taste her strawberry lip gloss now. 

When he tilts his head and peeks his eyes open, he catches Steve watching them. Tommy’s over talking with Carol and Steve’s meeting his gaze, unwavering. He watches Steve’s chest move with a huff, can see emotion swimming in his expression, in his eyes, and Billy wants to  _ push _ . Like he did when he first met him. 

His hand finds Cheryl’s ass, and he gives it a squeeze, his gaze never breaking as Steve’s nostrils flare and then he’s pushing up and off the couch and leaving the room, heading towards the back door.

Billy pulls away, barely hears Cheryl’s soft whiny ‘no, Billy,’ as he pushes her off and gets up to follow the other boy.

He finds Steve outside, smoking a cigarette. He looks like a fucking dream, standing there with his arms crossed over his dark polo shirt, a cigarette pinched between his fingers. He turns and looks at Billy as he sucks on it, his cheeks hollowing just so. 

Billy shuts the door behind him and leans against it, biting his lip before asking softly, “Can I have some?”

And Steve frowns, his eyebrows doing that little movement upwards in the middle when he’s a little or a lot hurt. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What do you mean?” Billy lies.

“You’re being...I dunno-- _mean?_ ”

“That’s funny, coming from you,” Billy huffs out, “I was only preoccupying myself,  _ Stevie _ . You were ignoring me.” He realizes just how childish that sounds after it leaves his mouth.

“Me and Tommy were catching up,” Steve bites back, flicking his cigarette’s ash a bit too hard, “I wasn’t ignoring--” his expression shifts to anger and he presses his lips together to suppress it, but it’s too late, because he says, “I don’t know why you’re so fucking obsessed with me, Billy. I can talk to whoever I want.”

“ _ Obsessed? _ ” Billy laughs, but there’s no humor and it’s spiteful and mean when he does it, and he can’t help himself either, he lets that ugly feeling bubble over, “At least I’m not storming out in a jealous rage and gagging for a piece that I’m too afraid to ask for.”

Steve’s expression shifts, hardens, and he turns away from Billy as he mutters, “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, man.”

And that pushes Billy to his limit. Funny, because wasn’t this supposed to be the other way around? 

He pushes himself off the door and goes to Steve, hits him on the shoulder as he speaks, “You’re a fucking coward, you know that, Harrington?” He watches Steve stumble forward, his cigarette falling to the ground as he turns to face Billy again with an unreadable expression. Billy continues, “You can’t even be honest with yourself. I saw you in there, watching me - and I saw that same fucking look at Vicky’s. Just admit it - you  _ want  _ me.”

Steve clenches his jaw and there’s that fire that warms Billy from the inside out, makes him want to close the distance and claim that pretty mouth. 

“Fuck you,” Steve spits, but his voice waivers as he says, “You’re fucking crazy-  _ I don’t want you. _ ”

And it fucking hurts. The rejection burns. That fire in Steve burns him and Billy needs to leave.

“This is a waste of time,” he huffs with a shake of his head, turning away from the party and Steve, who says nothing as Billy storms off back to his car.

The silence that follows tells him that his luck has run out.

<>

He notices that Steve’s not at school on Monday. He walks by his locker far too many times before lunch, and once classes start again, he gives up. Steve’s nowhere to be found and neither Tommy or Carol have heard from him since the party.

“Did something happen between you two?” Carol asks with that gossip-y tone Billy’s far too familiar with, “Steve was pretty upset when you left. He went home like, ten minutes after you did.”

Billy shrugs it off, says, “We had a fight. I think he was interested in Cheryl and didn’t like it when I made out with her in front of him. But - whatever, y’know? Snooze you lose.”

“Harsh,” Carol laughs, but she’s happy with that answer and changes the subject to something Billy doesn’t really care about.

Between classes, Cheryl finds him, grabs his shirt playfully and asks, “Hey, Billy...wanna go see a movie tonight, or something?”

The ‘or something’ perks his interest, because his day’s been complete garbage and he needs a distraction, so he smirks and says, “I’ll pick you up at seven.” She writes her address down on a piece of paper before she bounces off, giggling to her friend as Billy watches them go. 

Plenty of bitches in the sea, huh?

He takes his time going to his car after school, looks around the lot and doesn’t see the beamer anywhere. And he doesn’t see Wheeler and the freak’s brother, either. When he thinks about it, they weren’t here today. Where the fuck is everyone?

And when Max fails to show ten minutes after school, Billy’s anger is simmering beneath his skin. Fuck this school, fuck her, fuck Steve, fuck  _ everything _ . He starts his car and peels out of the parking lot, speeding back to his shitty room in his shitty house in this shitty town. 

<>

His anger worsens, just when he thinks it can’t.

His fucking cheek hurts and he’s forcing back the tears in his eyes as he storms out of his house and to his car. Finding Max was his priority, because once he got her back to the house, his dad would leave him the fuck alone until it was time to set him straight him again. 

He’d tried to be good, hadn’t he? He went to school, kept his grades up, didn’t fuck around with guys. And yet, it was  _ his  _ fault Max was gone and it was his job to find her.

And if he didn’t, he wasn’t sure what his dad would do. 

He goes to the Wheeler’s house first, knows where it is because Steve pointed it out one day when they drove around after school. Wheeler’s brother might know where Max is, or maybe she’s there. And if she is, he’ll just drag her out and take her home whether she liked it or not. 

When he rings the doorbell, he doesn’t expect a housewife in a robe to answer. It kind of throws him off, but then it was like flipping a switch; he knew by the look on her face that she was flustered, so he uses it to his advantage - how hard could it be to flirt and charm a woman, when girls around town melted when he simply said their name? 

All it took was a thorough look over and a dirty smirk to have Mrs. Wheeler blushing and inviting him in, spilling what she knew as he ate one of her homemade cookies.

The Byers. Fucking great.

He leaves shortly after, his smirk dropping as he starts up his car again and throws it into reverse. What the fuck was Max doing at the Byers’, anyway? 

As he was warned by Mrs. Wheeler, It’s a bit of a drive and his anger begins to mellow a tiny bit as he lights a cigarette and cranks up the radio to calm down. Whatever the hell Max was doing way the fuck out here, he knew she wasn’t going to go with him eagerly. And he really didn’t want her to put up a fight tonight.

When he pulls up to the Byers’ shack, the lights are on and he watches the door open and--

It’s Steve.

Emotions roll through Billy like lava, lighting the short fuse of his temper. What the fuck was Steve doing here?

He kills the engine and sucks on his cigarette as he steps out, slapping his hand onto the hood of his car as he takes in the other teen. Steve looks worse for wear with bags under his eyes and a pale appearance, his hair completely untamed. There’s no way that Steve is  _ actually  _ here, standing with his hands on his hips like some tired mother.

And because Billy knows he’s an asshole, he purrs around his cigarette, “Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington?”

Steve’s voice is flat as he replies, “Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.”

And that’s fucking  _ hilarious _ . 

Billy smirks and sheds his jacket, tosses it into his car before he slams the door shut and walks over, asking, “What are you doing here,  _ amigo _ ?”

They meet in the middle, Steve walking like he’s on some sort of mission while Billy leisurely makes his way over, until they’re just a few feet apart. 

And in the corner of his eye, he sees Max’s bright hair in the window. Fucking shitbird.

Focusing back on Steve, Billy feels the tension again, can’t tell what kind of charge it has because his anger is still there, all encompassing and he needs an outlet. How unfortunate that it’s the prettiest thing in Hawkins.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Steve drawls, tacking on a mocking, “ _ amigo _ .”

Billy speaks around his cigarette again, “Looking for my stepsister. A little birdie told me she was here.”

And Steve  _ lies _ . Badly, because they both know how bad Steve is at that, because he doesn’t even look Billy in the eye when he says, “Huh. That’s weird. I don’t know her.”

Billy would laugh if he wasn’t so pissed off. He can feel it in his chest, hears it in his clipped voice, “Small? Redhead? Bit of a bitch?” He lists off, as if any of those would trigger Steve’s memory.

“Doesn’t ring a bell, sorry, buddy.”

Billy glances at the ground, his skin prickling with nerves, because he’s over this shit. He scrunches his face and says around his cig, “Y’know - I don’t know,  _ this… _ ” he motions between them and takes a step closer, “This whole situation, Harrington, I don’t know.” He flicks his gaze up from the ground, stares right into those brown bambi eyes, “It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.”

Steve’s stare is unwavering as he asks, barely moving his mouth, “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

He takes the cigarette from his lips, talking with his hands, “My 13-year-old sister goes missing all day. And then I find her with you in a stranger’s house…and you lie to me about it.”

And Steve laughs, lightly, like it’s some kind of funny little joke. And then he says, “Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?”

Billy laughs, puffs of smoke leaving his mouth as he slides his tongue back and forth over his teeth, feeling that itch to fucking  _ hit  _ as Steve continues to talk.

“I don’t know what you don’t understand about what I just said. She’s not here.”

He doesn’t get why Steve’s lying. Why is he covering for her? Carefully, Billy takes the burning end of his cigarette and points it to the window, right at Max, before looking at Steve and asking lowly, “Then, who is that?”

He follows the way Steve turns to look, not taking his eyes off of him just to enjoy the next look that crosses his face.

Steve gets out a, “Oh, shit. Listen--” before Billy’s pushing him  _ hard _ , and of course, Steve falls right to the fucking ground. Jesus.

“I told you to plant your feet,” Billy mutters around his cigarette, feeling his rage take over as he slams his boot into Steve’s stomach and continues into the house, flicking his cigarette away before shoving the front door open against the wall.

And there they are, Max standing next to Lucas, and every set of eyes has fear in them. Just like they should. 

“Well, well, well,” he mutters, slamming the door shut behind him, his eyes focused on the boy next to Max, “Lucas Sinclair. What a surprise.”

He stalks forward, stops in front of Lucas before turning to Max, “I thought I told you to stay away from him, Max.”

Max’s voice is small as she mutters, “Billy, go away.”

He laughs dryly at that, because isn’t that just how it goes; she causes a total shit storm and tries to avoid the consequences. 

“I’m hurt that you didn’t invite me to your little party,” he glances over at the other two boys, Wheeler and the nerd, “But party's over. Time to go, Max.” He grabs her arm tightly, hears her scream as she struggles to make him let go, and then Lucas is on him and Billy redirects his anger by pushing the boy into the kitchen with an angry roar and pins him to the wall, his shirt in Billy’s fist. “Maybe  _ you’ll  _ listen to me,” he growls, “Stay away from her if you know what’s good for you.”

Lucas knees him hard in the balls and Billy doubles over in pain, steps back to lay off the kid because  _ fuck  _ that hurt. Yet, it makes a laugh bubble up his throat, and then he’s straightening and Steve’s there, a look of pure fury on his face as he suckers Billy in the cheek.

He stumbles back, slams into the fridge and catches his balance on the counter. The pain is shocking but it fuels him, makes him grin and his blood is fucking singing.  _ Finally _ . This is what they’ve been working up to, he and Steve. He stares at the older boy, smiles at him as he’s pushing off of the counter and before he can even say anything - something’s moving inside the fridge behind him.

And that doesn’t sound right, so Billy stops. Turns around. The fridge shakes, like something inside is trying to escape, and if these kids have someone stuffed inside...

He hears Steve’s voice, “Billy,  _ DON’T-- _ ”

He reaches for the handle but the thing inside beats him to it, the door flinging open and then it’s coming at Billy, making this weird wounded sound and Billy scrambles over the table as the kids scream. It’s a flurry of movement and a high-pitched scream, and Billy stumbles into the living room just as he hears Steve call his name again.

He looks over and catches the bat that’s thrown, barely even registering the nails that are hammered into it before he’s raising it over his head and slamming it down, yelling out as he beats the creature over and over.

It doesn’t take much, a few hits and sickening cracks before it doesn’t move again, limp and lifeless on the floor.

The room is quiet, filled only with his heavy breathing, his grip knuckle-white as he stares down at it. It’s...something his brain fails to recognize. A dog? With a deformed head and slime dripping all over the floor?

He laughs, a little in disbelief and wonder, before he says, “What the fuck.”

No one says a word, like they’re all holding their breath as he slowly turns to look at them. Steve is staring at him with wide eyes, Max is half-hidden behind Lucas while the other two are standing by the door, ready to run.

“Billy,” Max whispers, yet he can hear it from across the room, “You have to leave.”

He’s confused, because one moment he was ready to fight and the next he was bludgeoning an otherworldly creature to death. There’s no more anger, not all-encompassing like it had been, instead replaced by confusion and worry.

He looks right at her and mutters, “You have a lot of fucking explaining to do.”

The nerdiest kid of the bunch speaks then, sounding a little choked as he exclaims, “ _ That _ ...was wicked.” 

“Dustin--” Steve sighs.

“--as much as I hate him, I think he needs to come with us,” Dustin continues, and the Wheeler kid gives him a look of disbelief.

“Are you kidding me?! He was ready to kill Lucas like, two minutes ago!”

“Yeah, but did you see what he did? If he can fight, we need him on our side!”

Steve looks lost for words and completely done with this Dustin kid’s shit, but then Max pipes up again, “ _ No _ , we’re keeping Billy out of this - it’s none of his business.”

Lucas clears his throat from beside her, “Yeah, but...he kind of made it his business? We gotta get moving soon--” 

“Alright,  _ enough _ ,” Billy barks, slamming the bat against the kitchen table and it startles everyone’s attention to him, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but I’m not leaving without Max. Got it? Or is it too much for your half-developed brains to understand?”

“ _ Ohmygod _ \--okay,” Steve sighs, running his hands through his hair and ignoring Billy’s outburst as he addresses the kids, “First of all,  _ no _ , we are  _ not  _ leaving and following the stupid game plan you guys made, we are staying here on the bench until this is over. And second, Max is right - it’s stupid to get Billy involved at this point.”

Outright hearing Steve say he doesn’t want Billy getting involved changes Billy’s tune almost instantly. He runs his tongue over his teeth, sucking on them noisily before chuckling, “What? Scared, Harrington?”

The look that they share makes him smirk, because he knows the little shitheads are watching, waiting.

“I mean, I’m just guessing,” he continues with a shrug, shouldering the bat with a flick of his wrist, “You said ‘we’re staying on the bench’, which to me, means you’re scared shitless and would rather stay here. And I’m curious about this ‘game plan’ you mentioned--”

There’s a flurry of voices that interrupt him:

“Don’t listen--”

“We have a game plan and Steve won’t let us--”

“There is no way we’re telling you--”

But he turns to Wheeler, who continues to explain what they were planning on doing. It’s a lot to take in considering he had no idea what was really happening up until five minutes ago, and still doesn’t really have a complete grasp on it, but Max is adamant about helping and not going back home. 

So, that leaves only one choice.

<>

Billy’s hard stare remains on the road as he drives, but his attention is focused on Steve in his passenger seat. The kids are talking in the back about god knows what, but he drowns them out. He clears his throat and in the corner of his eye catches Steve glance over at him, so he asks, “How the fuck did you get yourself into this mess, Harrington?” 

Just the other day they were smoking and drinking at a party and at each other’s throats. It feels almost surreal to be sitting next to him now, like this.

Steve sighs as he glances out of the window again, so quiet that Billy thinks he’s not going to answer, until, “I was...going to Nancy’s. And Dustin stopped me when I was outside her house, started talking about needing my help and if I had my bat - and he just kind of swept me up into this. And these other kids, Jesus Christ, they’re so stubborn...I really didn’t stand a chance. I wanted them to stay put and not get themselves hurt or killed. Now, thanks to you, we’re off on a suicide mission.”

“Relax,” Billy rolls his eyes, reaching for his cigs and popping one into his mouth, blindly searching for his lighter as he watches the road, “You didn’t have to come.”

“ _ Of course _ I had to come, these kids need someone to look after them.” Steve huffs out an irritated breath after a moment and grabs the lighter in the cupholder, flicking it open and lighting Billy’s cigarette with practiced ease.

Their eyes meet for a second, Steve’s arm still stuck out in the air, before he snaps the lighter shut and retreats to his side of the car with a quiet shift.

“ _ Ugh _ \- roll down the window, it stinks!” Wheeler whines from the back, and Billy rolls his eyes again as he cracks the window.

He lets them sit in awkward, stifling silence for a moment before he breaks it, trying for casual or uninterested, “You said you were going to see Nancy…”

“Yeah,” Steve mutters, sounding tired and bitter, “And I know what you’re thinking and the answer is no, I didn’t have flowers or some bullshit apology prepared.”

He takes a long, careful drag before he breathes out the smoke, asking, “Then why’d you go?”

“I wanted to know if it was true,” Steve answers quickly, still staring out of the window as he talks, “If she’s with him-- if we’re actually over and I can move on. Because it’s goddamn exhausting wondering every night and day if it’s really, truly over.”

“Do you think it is?” 

The silence is long, longer than expected because then he’s turning off of the road and into a field at the kid’s instructions, stopping his Camaro in front of a hole in the ground - the entrance. He and Steve leave the car, make sure all of the kids are out before they begin to gear up. Billy had taken a black scarf that’d been hanging with a few jackets and wrapped it around his neck and mouth, a pair of old safety glasses perched on his nose, as well. He grabs his crowbar from the trunk, wondering what the fuck he was thinking and doing at this point.

And when he sees Steve standing there in his goggles and red bandana with that bat in hand, it becomes very clear. 

He goes over to him while the kids finish gearing up, and Steve pulls down his bandana just in time to blurt out, “Yes.”

Billy huffs a small laugh, confused, “Yes, what?”

“Yes, I think it’s over. And...I’m sorry about what I said. Before.”

Billy shrugs, tries to brush off the sting he remembers, “It’s nothing, Harrington. Just forget about it.”

“But what if I don’t want to?”

Billy doesn’t have time to say anything in return, because Mike is walking by them and then Dustin and then the four kids are heading towards the hole and Steve’s yelling after them. 

Mike’s the first one in, despite Steve’s protests, and then one by one they’re lowered down. Billy’s the last to jump in, picking up his crowbar after catching his balance, hearing Steve’s soft ‘holy shit’ as he looks around, too.

And it’s like he’s entered a new world - it’s cold, and dark, and there’s weird spores or ash in the air that makes him glad to have the scarf around his mouth. 

“This better be fucking worth it,” he grumbles under his breath as he turns his flashlight on, hearing Mike and Dustin begin to yell and argue about which way to go.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s this way!” Mike calls as he’s looking at a hand drawn map with his flashlight.

“You’re pretty sure, or you’re certain?” Dustin calls back.

Mike whips around to yell right, “I’m a hundred percent sure! Just follow me and you’ll know!”

And as the kid turns to lead the way, Steve yells at him, “Whoa, whoa, whoa--hey, hey, hey! I don’t think so!”

Billy smirks under his scarf as he watches Mike turn around, the kid asking, “What?”

Steve goes to him, still talking, “Any of you little shits die down here, I’m getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?” And then he took the map from the kid and announced to everyone else, “From here on out,  _ I’m  _ leading the way. Come on, let’s go!”

And Billy swears he’s falling in love.


	6. Chapter 6

It’s over.

Billy doesn’t know  _ what  _ is over, not necessarily, but he’s exhausted and terrified and it’s fucking  _ over _ .

And they’re all alive.

After they pile back into Billy’s car, he drives back to the Byers’, weary but still keyed up. He wonders if this is how heros in movies feel once the bad guys have been defeated, and it’s childish to think, but it’s the only thing that comes to mind. The sky is still dark and it seems colder now, but Steve leans towards him the entire ride back, quiet as a mouse, and it feels like a win.

Once they’re back at the Byers’, all of their gear shrugged off outside, Max removes her sweater and flops onto the couch, clearly getting ready to pass out.

“Hey, no,” Billy frowns as he goes over to her, “Get up, we’re going--”

He’s intercepted by Will’s mom, Joyce, who looks at him like a lioness defending her cub, “She’s welcome to spend the rest of the night here - it’s no trouble. And she’ll be safe, I promise.”

Billy sighs, irritated, “We’re expected home, Mrs. Byers--”

“Then I will take her home tomorrow myself and apologize for keeping  _ both  _ of you so late.” Joyce isn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer and honestly, Billy’s way too tired to fight her on this. And, she said ‘both of you’. This woman that he’s never met in his life up until tonight is willing to cover for him?

Billy hasn’t felt real gratitude like this in a long time, even if she might not understand how much it means to him.

He makes a show of thinking about it before sighing in resignation, nodding and then she’s smiling at him, warm and soft like mothers did, “Good. Get some rest--Billy, right?”

“Yeah. And I will.” He glances down at Max, who smiles up at him. It’s small and unsure, probably a silent ‘thank you’, but he nods in response.

“And I’m sorry, but the couch is the only other place to sleep and I think these kids will take up most of the floor - do you have somewhere safe to go?” Joyce asks, already back with an extra pillow and blanket for Max.

Steve pipes up from behind him then, “Yeah, we’re going back to my place. I have a guest room.”

“Alright,” Joyce smiles, “You’re both welcome back later for breakfast. I think Hop will want to...discuss things.”

He nods, because it makes sense. No one but the group of them knew what happened tonight and it had to stay that way.

The drive to Steve’s is almost peaceful with the radio off and windows down, and they both have a cigarette each. Steve’s parents are still home and asleep when they arrive, so they sneak in as quietly as they can, creeping up the stairs and branching off to their respective rooms after they share a long look.

Settling down into the guest bed feels a lot like deja vu. He’s already removed his shoes and jacket, so he slips under the covers in his jeans and shirt, trying to find some sort of comfort.

He’s exhausted like he’d never experienced before, and because of that, he can’t sleep. Every time he closes his eyes, he imagines those fucking things. He imagines it going wrong, could see those stupid kids and Max getting ripped apart - could see  _ Steve  _ being ripped apart, and it makes him ache all over. It’s the middle of the night, he can’t sleep where he’s lying in Harrington’s guest bedroom, and he  _ knows  _ Steve’s awake. Because under all that fight, all that strength, he knows Steve was scared. 

Because Billy was scared.

He turns around to face the other way and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to force himself to sleep. But he keeps smelling gasoline and he can feel the flames that almost engulfed them, and he swears he can hear those things screaming in the woods.

It doesn’t take long before he’s out of bed and trailing his hand against the wall as he walks down the familiar, dark hallway. He walks by where Steve’s parents are sleeping in their bedroom and towards his destination: a closed down at the end of the hall. As he expected, it isn't locked. He turns the knob as quietly as he can, hears the near-silent ‘click’ of the door opening, and pushes it open. 

Steve’s room is dark, except for a lamp with a shirt thrown over it across the room, muting the colour to a soft glow. Steve’s in the middle of reaching down to grab a plain wooden bat under his bed when Billy steps in and closes the door behind him just as quietly as he had opened it. 

“Christ, you scared me,” Steve breaths, flopping back onto his bed once he realizes who is entering his room.

“Just me. Not some other dimensional monster-dog.” Billy mutters, leaning back against the door as he eyes Steve. He’s wearing a soft cotton t-shirt and buried under two different blankets, his hair’s a mess and he looks exhausted but not at all like he’s been sleeping. 

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, frowning.

“Nothing,” Billy lies, shrugging a little, “Can’t sleep in these clothes, thought I’d see what you were up to. Maybe borrow something to sleep in?”

Steve huffs a soft laugh, like he can’t believe Billy, but he motions towards his dresser with a nod, “Help yourself.”

After a bit of searching, Billy settles on a pair of pyjama pants and black t-shirt. He changes quietly, and it feels good to be out of those clothes - like he’s shedding the weight of what happened, even a little. When he turns around, Steve’s watching him, all curled up in his bed with the covers up to his chin.

“So,” Billy mutters awkwardly, shifting his weight between his feet as he sorts out his thoughts, “I’m...sorry. About earlier, at the Byers’ place. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“You’ve done worse, I’m sure,” Steve mutters back with a tiny smile, “Don’t worry about it. I got you back pretty good, anyway.”

Billy huffs with a smirk, shaking his head. “What a pair we make, huh?”

Steve’s smile widens at that, nodding, and after a quiet moment, he pulls the covers back from behind him. Like an invitation.

Billy smirks again, “That’s kinda gay, Steve.” 

“Stop acting like you can’t sleep alone and get in here. Why the hell do you think I have the light on?”

He has a point. But, it’s so risky. Billy knows what will happen if he lays down next to Steve in that warm bed. 

Maybe Steve knows it, too.

That traitorous hope blooms in his chest again as Billy walks over and crawls right in, settling in that empty space like it was meant for him. He lets Steve cover him up, biting on the inside of his cheek as he tries not to let that false sense of security soothe him. He doesn’t realize how cold his fingers are, not until he’s cocooned in Steve’s scent and warmth.

Once satisfied, Steve lays quietly on his side, facing away from him. The bed is big enough for both of them to lay with a comfortable amount of distance between them. Billy lays just as quietly on his back, even closes his eyes to try and sleep, but opens them again not long after. 

He swallowed thickly before glancing over at the other boy, eyeing his wild head of hair as he fought himself. The air’s tense again, and it feels heavier with every passing minute, weighing heavily on his limbs. Steve’s awake, he could tell by his breathing. And Billy couldn’t think of a thing to say.

So, he shifts onto his side, facing Steve. Moves a little closer, pulls the blankets up to his shoulder. He’s in Steve’s bed, wearing his clothes, with Steve mere inches away. 

It felt a lot like the moment before you stopped holding your breath.

He inches over, pressing himself flush against Steve’s back. They don’t say anything - barely even breathe - as Billy wraps an arm around the other boy’s waist and tucks his fingers between the bed and Steve’s side. It feels electric, like there’s a current flowing up and down his arm. He can feel the heat of Steve’s skin through his shirt, pressed against his chest and stomach, and swallows thickly as he waits.

When he feels the way Steve’s hips press back, feels the firmness of his ass against his dick, Billy gets his answer.

He presses a kiss to Steve’s neck just as his hand reaches down, slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, reveling in the way Steve sucks in a sharp breath and arches his back. Steve turns his head, a dazed look on his pretty face, with lips parted and the way he lifts his chin for a kiss is so sweet, who is Billy to deny him anything?

The silky glide of Steve’s tongue against his own makes heat pool in his belly, and he feels Steve’s dick twitch in his hand as Billy sucks on his bottom lip.

“Don’t think I can stop,” he warns under his breath against Steve’s mouth, his hand gripping around the tip of his dick, swiping his thumb over it and watching how Steve’s eyelids flutter.

“Good,” Steve murmurs back, reaching down to pull Billy’s hand out of his boxers and up to his mouth, swipes his tongue over his palm, and then stuffs it back down into his underwear with a choked sound.

Jesus.

Billy strokes his fist down Steve’s cock, full and heavy in his grip, so fucking big that it makes his mouth water. He smooths his hand down further, grips at his balls, and hears the softest whimper. “You like that, baby?” He murmurs, kissing at Steve’s neck again, breathing in the scent of him.

Steve nods, whispers, “Yeah,” and Billy rolls them in his hand as Steve pushes his hips back again, grinding on Billy’s hardening dick.

“Fuck, your cock is so big,” Billy swears as he kisses up to Steve’s ear, lowering his voice as he mutters into it, “Want it in my mouth...would you let me, Steve? I wanna suck your cock so bad, baby...”

“ _ Fuck _ , Billy,” Steve moans, his cheeks flushed so pretty now as Billy sucks his earlobe between his lips, “Yes, yes, I would…wanna come in your mouth-- _ ah _ \--”

Billy rubs at the wet tip, smearing it down Steve’s length to aid him, “Jesus, you’re so fucking wet for me already,” he moans, “How long you’ve been waiting for this, huh? Been thinking about me touching you?”

And it was a rhetorical question, but Steve still flushes darker - Billy could see it spreading down beneath the collar of his shirt. And then Steve whispers, “Longer than you have.”

Which makes Billy pull his hand out of Steve’s pants to grip his face, thumb and forefinger pressing into Steve’s cheeks, forcing the older boy to look up at him - those big brown eyes in a daze as he did. He didn’t seem to care about the wet smear of Billy’s fingers on his face, especially when he connected their mouths again. It’s a claim, a silent reciprocation, a promise. Steve reaches up, grabbing at whatever he could of Billy, and kisses back with soft breaths and softer moans. 

“This is it, princess,” Billy murmurs against his boy’s mouth, his eyes shut as he presses their foreheads together, “You and me. From now on, it’s us. Okay?”

He feels the tips of their noses brush, feels Steve’s soft breath mingle with his own, and finally, Steve whispers back, “Me and you,” with this strange, soft emotion in his voice, “It’s us.”

Satisfied, Billy releases Steve’s face and forces him onto his back, shifting down the mattress and pulling Steve’s shorts off, tossing them aside carelessly. He places his hands on Steve’s thighs and trails them up, his thumbs digging in as he spreads those long legs. Steve’s so fucking pretty with his skin littered with tiny moles and freckles, and his huge dick resting against his lower belly. “You still wanna come in my mouth, pretty boy?” He asks with a small smirk, flicking his eyes up to Steve’s face.

And Steve nods, biting his lower lip. Billy just wants to eat him up.

He gets comfortable between those long legs and takes his time. Steve’s dick is a fucking marvel, long and thick, with just the right amount of vein and a perfect tip. Billy kisses around the base, tongues at it, inhaling the heat of Steve there. 

“You’re so gross,” Steve laughs softly, which makes Billy grin and nip at the sensitive skin of where his hip meets his thigh, mirroring Steve’s soft laugh as the older boy gasps a sharp little moan.

“Just trying to enjoy the moment...not like I’ll get to blow Steve Harrington for the first time again,” he hums, sticking his tongue out and slapping the head against it as Steve glances down at him.

“Jesus,” Steve whispers, almost in disbelief, which makes Billy laugh again.

And, yeah, maybe he’s a bit of a tease. Definitely is, because Billy himself has enough - he wraps his lips around that slick tip and goes to work, stuffing as much as he can into his mouth, hungry for it, gagging softly and moaning as he did. He feels Steve’s hand in his hair, gripping his curls as Billy works his mouth over him, slurping so loud that it makes Steve squirm, but his dick is leaking on his tongue like crazy so Billy knows he’s doing pretty fucking good. What he can’t fit into his mouth he covers with his hand, squeezing and stroking, huffing softly in amusement when he hears Steve whimpering soft instructions to him to suck harder, to soften his grip, and when he wants Billy to suck on the underside of the tip. 

“ _ Billy _ ,” he whines as Billy does just as instructed, beginning to squirm a little more as his stomach tenses and the tip of his dick makes Billy’s top lip slick. 

“Fuck,” Billy groans as he eases up, “Love getting you so messy, baby,” he licks the precum from his lip as he strokes Steve, watching him tense again. “What? You gonna come?” He asks, pouting his bottom lip almost mockingly, “You gonna come so fucking hard in my mouth, Steve? Gonna make me swallow all of it?”

“Oh my god, shut  _ up _ ,” Steve flushes and grips at Billy’s hair  _ hard _ , making his gasp and moan, “Yes, I’m gonna come in your mouth…”

“Mm, that’s more like it,” Billy chuckles after recovering, “Love it when you get all prissy like the princess you are. C’mon, baby, come in my mouth...” And he sucks Steve in again, bobs his head, letting the spit and precome gather between his stroking fingers. He trails them down, presses at the smooth skin under Steve’s balls in passing, feels Steve tense and shout as Billy pressed his fingers against his hole as if it were a promise. Just the pressure is enough to set him off, bucking his hips and swearing, filling Billy’s mouth that he swallows down greedily. He hums his approval, his eyes trained on Steve’s face as he comes, wanting to commit it to memory for nights he couldn’t have this. 

He sucks at Steve even after he starts to soften, leisurely cleaning him up and sucking on the tip, grinning as Steve pushes his head away with a tired groan.

“Billy…”

“Shh,” he shushes him as he crawls up to press himself against Steve’s front, crushing him a little as he kisses him again. The fact that Steve doesn’t shy away from it thrills him, because he knows Steve can taste himself on his tongue. “Just let me…” He murmurs, beginning to rut his hips forward, groaning softly as he feels Steve’s legs lazily lift to wrap around him. 

He doesn’t last long, not when Steve wraps his arms around him like he’s afraid Billy’s going to suddenly disappear, kisses Billy’s neck and bites at his jaw as he mutters soft encouragement. Billy doesn’t even have time to pull himself out of his borrowed pants before he comes, cursing into Steve’s neck as he pumps his hips, feeling his come soak through his underwear and Steve’s pants.

They lay there quietly, catching their breath, until Billy lifts his head and Steve gives him a smile that’s soft and embarrassed but full of affection. Hopefully he gets to see more of that.

He kisses Steve again, slow and careful, liking how Steve holds him close as he does. 

It’s unbearably sweet, until Steve smiles against his mouth and says, “I told you not to cream your pants.” 

And Billy laughs so loud he almost wakes Steve’s parents.

<>

He wakes up just as the sun is about to rise, his head is throbbing and he’s dying for some water. It feels like a hangover, but he knows it’s not. He shifts a little and opens his eyes, wrinkles his nose a little as Steve’s wild hair tickles it. The older boy is draped over him, an arm slung over Billy’s waist, and Steve’s legs are keeping one of his captive between them.

And Billy doesn’t want to move. He licks his lips and looks around the room, can see the blue of dawn creeping in through the curtains, and he knows he should go back to the guest room because he didn’t lock the door and Steve’s parents might be up soon.

“Steve…” he croaks, his voice deep from sleep, “Steve, I gotta go back…”

And the little shit just whines and holds Billy tighter in his sleep.

“I mean it,” he whispers, grabbing Steve’s hand and pulling it away from his side, “Your parents might walk in…”

That does it, because Steve peeks at him with a frown before pulling away, rolling over onto his back with a deep sigh.

Just as he’s shifting to crawl out of the bed, Steve quietly says, “We gotta talk.”

So Billy sits his ass down again and looks down at the older boy, who’s cuddling a pillow and looking up at him with such tired eyes. “Alright,” Billy mutters, “Talk.”

“I mean…” Steve blinks hard, like he’s trying not to fall asleep again, “You...we…”

“I sucked your dick and you liked it,” Billy states with a tiny smirk, but his amusement wavers as he realizes that maybe Steve changed his mind, “Or…?”

“I did,” Steve says with certainty, even grabs Billy’s hand and holds it, “A lot. Like...way too much?”

Billy huffs out a small laugh through his nose, “Yeah, I know.” It’s a relief. Because as much as Billy thinks he could just have Steve once, he knows it’s not true. “So, if that’s not what’s bothering you, what is?"

And Steve goes quiet again, thumbing at Billy’s hand where their fingers are interlaced, his face clearly showing that he was thinking very hard about something. 

“Well?” Billy pushes, looking down at their hands.

“You and me?” Steve finally says, glancing up at Billy, echoing his words from last night, “You said from now on...it’s us.”

“Yeah.” Maybe he was a little dramatic with that, but he doesn’t regret saying it. 

“What does that mean, exactly?”

“What do you want it to mean?” 

Steve shrugs, “I’m just asking because you mentioned before that you and Vicky were just fucking around, and you were fine with that.”

Billy lifts a brow and says, “If you don’t want me to see Vicky anymore, you just have to tell me.” Monogamy wasn’t exactly something he was used to outside of a relationship, but he was willing to make an exception.

“No,” Steve huffs and buries his face into his pillow, resurfacing after a moment to continue, “Look, I’m trying  _ really  _ hard not to sound like some desperate chick right now, okay? I just...don’t get it - do you want  _ this _ or something more?”

“You’re failing terribly at not sounding like a desperate chick,” Billy smirks, but when Steve frowns up at him and takes his hand away, Billy shifts down to spoon him again, laughing a little as he wraps Steve up in his arms tightly as the other tries to get away, “No, no - Steve, listen.”

Steve stops struggling and listens as Billy presses his mouth right against the shell of his ear and explains himself in a soft tone, “It’s us, baby. And what I mean by that is that  _ I want you _ , and I’ll take whatever you’ll give me. I asked what you wanted it to mean because I already know what I want, but do you? And I ain’t going to make up your mind for you, Steve. You need to tell me what you want.”

They lay there for a moment as Steve stares at a point in the wall, but then he glances back at Billy and says in this tiny voice, worrying his lip, “What if I don’t know what I want?”

“That’s fine, too,” Billy mutters, pressing a kiss to the soft skin just behind Steve’s ear, “Then maybe we decide what’s cool and what isn’t. Is this okay?” He kisses Steve’s skin again, a little lower now.

And Steve nods quietly.

“What about this?” Billy murmurs, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Steve’s skin, his teeth lightly grazing there.

Steve makes the softest sound under his breath and immediately snaps his jaw shut, speaking a moment later, “I think it’s safe to say everything we’ve done up to this point is okay.”

Billy chuckles against a group of freckles on Steve’s shoulder and nods his agreement, and then asks, “You wanna fool around again?”

“ _ Right now? _ ” 

“No,” Billy laughs again, adoring him, “I meant like, in the near future.”

“Yes,” Steve mutters, grabbing Billy’s hand again and holding it to his chest, “I just...wanna take it slow and figure it out. I’m not ready for a relationship or anything, but I like you and you’ve done so much for me, and I want to keep you around.”

“‘Keep me around’. Didn’t know you were such a romantic.” Billy smirks, teasing.

Steve glances back at him again, his brown eyes so wide and pretty, Billy wants to kiss him again. “I mean it,” Steve says softly, “You were right, about before. I was scared and I didn’t know what to do with you, because I’ve always liked girls and whenever I thought of guys, I would make myself stop. And I didn’t want to tell anyone how I felt - not even Tommy, so...yeah.” 

“Listen,” Billy clears his throat softly, understanding that Steve wanted to be serious, “I’m not gonna make you put a label on this. If you want to be friends, and fool around, that’s cool with me. And...if it gets to be too much, you tell me, okay?”

He’s never been this accommodating with anyone before, never really cared enough to do it, but looking at Steve now - like this - Billy wants to make sure nothing ever happens to him again. Steve’s his boy now, and when Steve smiles, relaxes so much that it looks like he melts, Billy finally gives in to his craving to kiss him. 

And he thinks maybe a year in Hawkins won’t be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please let me know in the comments or by leaving a little love (kudos)!
> 
> I found it hard to end this fic because there's so much more to write about/address, so I'm entertaining the idea of writing more for the time between the end of S2 and the beginning of S3. If you'd like to read something like that, let me know! ♥


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